Demon Bait
by OccultPrincess
Summary: On a full-fledged scholarship to True Cross University, a girl studies to become an exorcist - however, one thing after another seems to go wrong for her. Or is it right? All she knows is: she can't go anywhere without running into a demon and the headmaster seems to have a special interest in her. (Mephisto x) Rated T/M.
1. Chapter 1, Introductions

**Author Notes:** Hi guys! So I had to take this down and rework it to fit FF's guidelines, but I'm back with the same story title and all! I've been out of the writing game for years now, as I've put all of my novels on hold in exchange for life; working and surviving with little to no creativity. I've become inspired yet again to start writing and doing what I want to do with my life. Blue Exorcist really made me miss working on my books, since most of my stories have to do with gods/demons and take place in the underworld. So now I'm kind of re-obsessed, and wanting to get back into the writing spirit. This will be my first fanfic. Depending on how long and in depth I make this, you *may* see OC characters, and there might be some cross over/references/character personalities to my universe, but I will try to stay as canon to the Manga as possible. I will also add in some story arcs from the Anime, and configure them to fit with the Manga and it's timeline as best as possible. This will not be my best work, as I will just be jotting things down, trying to get the brain juices flowing.  
 **Warning:** This fic will be rated M/MA. I don't write for children, or for teens either really. There will be adult content, strong language, some drug use, nudity and violence. So for the sake of this ~ I'm changing the Blue Exorcist universe to True Cross University, where everyone will be of college-age, because I don't feel comfortable writing minors in situations they shouldn't be in ;) I will include content warnings at the beginning of each chapter. *FOR FF - I will have to edit a lot of the MA content to fit into the M guidelines, sorry guys!*  
 **Trigger Warning:** If you have PTSD/anxiety issues/any other issues brought on by experiences from any form of abusive relationships, this may not be the fic for you. Part of this will indeed be a way of me expressing my experiences with emotional/mental abuse.  
 **Last thing!** This fic will also be published on my DeviantArt (OccultxPrincess) which will be rated M/MA and include all MA content. I may post it to my Tumblr blog (occultxprincess) as well, where I post a lot of updates on the fic, headcannons, etc, and take suggestions for the fic. Feel free to check out either if you please.

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Chapter 1. Introductions.

 _Warning: Language_

The courtyard was bursting with students, all new to True Cross University. Some had decided to head towards their dorms, while others made their way towards the school facilities even before they were told to do so. A few rushed by, on their way to the book store, hoping to snag a few textbooks and supplies that they had put off until the last minute. Many were standing, packed like sardines, waiting for orders to be announced while they scanned their maps and class lists, casually chattering about everything and anything that came to mind. Off to the side, near the entrance gate to the courtyard, was a girl. Mouth agape, she stood in awe, taking in the vastness of the complex before her.

This was it. This was the day. She felt as if her whole life had been leading up to this moment. She had studied extensively to enter the Exorcist Cram School, and yet despite average grades in high school, had managed to land a full-ride scholarship to one of the most prestigious universities on what seemed like a whim; and she was determined not to let such an opportunity pass her by.

The city that the University called home was huge compared to the little town she was born and raised in, but the building before her was unlike anything she could have ever possibly imagined. Overwhelmed with feelings of excitement, nervousness, joy, and sheer terror swirling in the pit of her stomach, the girl couldn't manage to even step foot into the courtyard. She just stood at the gate like a stone sentry, arms loose at her sides, bags weighing on her shoulders like boulders, cementing her into the ground even further, her papers feeling like they might slip out of her fingers just as easily as the scholarship could.

Off to the side, a boy with dark hair and pointed ears scratched his head, repeatedly looking over his papers and then around the crowd, as if he was searching for the answer to a question he hadn't even thought of yet. Scanning over one unfamiliar face after another, his eyes passed over the girl by the gate, and abruptly came back to her. She was a little plain in appearance, but beautiful nonetheless, and something called out to him in such a way that he couldn't take his eyes off of her. And so, he watched her for a bit, despite the hustle and bustle of the courtyard, just taking her in. A few students entered through the gate and stopped in their tracks to look at their own papers, blocking his line of sight. He moved in every direction until his eyes laid on her once more; a sweet face with plump lips, and lost eyes.

He had to talk to her.

Without even thinking, he waded his way through the crowd, eyes never leaving the side of her rose-brushed cheek. He didn't care how he talked to her, he didn't care what he talked to her about. He just knew he had to be near her, to see her up close, to hear her voice. For what reasons, he was completely at a loss for. Though when he stood close her, he could barely muster up the strength to open his mouth. He just studied her as she was in her own world, until finally he couldn't take it anymore.

"H-hey, are you new here, too?" he stuttered.

The voice rang through her body like her alarm clock had just woken her from the most deep, entrancing sleep of her lifetime. Papers and books flew out of her arms in every direction, except the few she was able to cling to at the very last moment, before they could escape her reach. Gasping, she dropped to the ground to collect her belongings before they blew away with the crisp autumn breeze. He frantically grabbed a few papers in their attempts at flight, and then stooped down to help gather the rest of the girls' things. By this time, she was on to picking her textbooks that had dropped from her shocked grasp, and as she placed her hand on the last one, she noticed another grabbed it at the same time.

Looking up from the ground, her gaze met a boy with dark hair and strangely pointed ears. He smiled, apologizing for startling her, and she couldn't help but to blush when being reminded of looking like a fool. Standing, she nodded, and quickly changed the subject. "What was that earlier?"

"Oh, I had asked if you were new. To the school, I mean. Are you new to the school?" his voice came out like a jackhammer.

She gave a slow nod, her eyes wide and questioning.

"Well, shit. So you probably know just about as much as I do about this place," he heaved, dropping his things, a weight being lifted off his chest for finally making the move and striking up a conversation. His scabbard clanked onto the ground and rested against his waist. "I was hoping maybe you weren't, so you could help me out, but with a face like that I figured as much."

Her ears grew warm as she glanced down at the toes of her shoes for a split second. "Well, I'm sorry." The expression on her face was unaltered confusion, with a slight hue of aversion.

He paused, and then roared with laughter, perhaps as a way to diffuse the own nervous feeling within his being. "No! Don't worry about it! I think I'm in the same boat, this place is huge! I have no idea what's going on – after the orientation meeting they just excused us out here and no one's said a thing!"

A feeling of dread plunged over her whole body as she realized her tardiness had cost her the orientation meeting. There was absolutely no room for error, she reminded herself, trying to be as discreet with her displeasure while in the company of other people. It was then that an authoritative voice came on over the loudspeaker, calling for people to group up by names to start touring the school. Signs popped up over the heads of students, displaying letters of the alphabet.

"My names Okumura; Rin Okumura. My brother is Yukio Okumura, he's over there," he motioned to a boy off in the distance with some other students. "What's your name?"

A half-hearted smile cracked on her lips. "It's not important," she mumbled, standing on her toes to try and see over the tops of the other students to locate the sign that coordinated with the first letter of her surname.

"Don't be like that," he urged, cocking his head to the side in order to catch her eyes. "Come on, what's your name? Everyone has one!"

Uninterested in small talk at the moment, she reluctantly told the boy her name after more subtle persuasion, hoping that it would satisfy him. He let her name roll around in his mouth, while noticing her struggling to see over the tops of the students.

"Looks like that's your group over there," he said, pointing off in one direction. "Mine's this way," he spoke while motioning to the opposite end of the courtyard. "So it looks like we're going our separate ways then."

Following the direction of Rin's finger, she could barely make out the letters on the sign due to the sheer number of students, some towering above her petite frame. "Thank you!" she exclaimed. "You didn't have to do that, I would have figured it out myself," she retorted, eyes on the boy. "But I do appreciate it very much. I'm so sorry, I'm kind of—" she pressed the tips of her fingers to her temples, and then blew them out around her skull while making an explosion noise, a feeble attempt to convey how out of sorts she was at the moment.

He couldn't help but to find her attempts to be callously focused, exceptionally captivating, even though it was clear she was going for the complete opposite. Chuckling, he shook his head. "Don't worry about it. Maybe we'll see each other another time! It was nice to meet you."


	2. Chapter 2, Strange Accompanies

Chapter 2. Strange Accompanies.

She walked with her group through the University, shuffling through her papers and trying to keep up with the attendant while going over the map and taking as many notes as possible. The dining hall was massive, with lavish meals more expensive than she could have ever dreamed of affording; she scribbled down a note to make her own lunches and underlined it with force, twice. Another group was still in the enormous room, making their rounds and getting acquainted with the cooking stations, the vending machines, the bar, and so on. As one group poured into the room, only a few stragglers were left, collecting their things from the tables, and on with their tour.

While perusing the halls, the escort called out the classrooms and their teaching purposes, going into a monologue about how prestigious the school was, how wonderful this teacher was, or how great of an elective that class was. However, she was on a mission; to finish her tour and get to her cram school classes right away. She marked each class she needed to attend on the University-provided map as the group passed it, and anxiously awaited moving on to the next section.

The group made a complete circle and yet again entered the great hall – the main entrance foyer of the University. The guide drew the tour to a conclusion, and she couldn't help but to stand in bewilderment while students shuffled about her, spreading out within the school; some off to the gym, to the dining hall, to conference rooms, some off to their dorms for the next couple of weeks before classes began as there was nothing else left for them to do.

However, nothing was said about the Cram school classes or exorcists in general.

Clutching her things, she cursed under her breath and darted off into the hallways, pulling her map up to see if she had missed something.

She sprinted down through most of the halls that the guide hadn't taken them, rechecked the map and the classroom roster to see if any room was listed as exorcist or cram school classes, but nothing. Nothing in the whole school. Sighing heavily, she closed her eyes and dropped her head back and let her arms fall to her sides. She had no idea just how much time had passed and yet she knew that her classes would be starting soon, and if it weren't for the map, she would indeed be lost within the labyrinth of halls in the old school.

That was when she caught a quiet 'pssst.' Her eyes shot open and she peered around the hall, which was emptying of the few students by the second.

"Pssst."

This time, a little louder. But where was it coming from?

Her feet began moving. She didn't even know if it was for her or not, but at this point in time she was willing to do anything to be rid of the feeling of hopelessness.

"This way!" the voice came from off in the distance, playfully.

Turning the corner to a barren passage, she noticed it teed off at the end. The sounds of students' voices faded off into the distance and she continued. Her body grew tense, as her senses raised, the more alone and disconnected she became from any other person besides the voice beckoning her.

"Almost." The voice was much louder as she came to the T. She paused in the center, looking down the left, and down the right. A familiar feeling crept across the skin of her right side, raising the hair; reluctantly, she turned to the right, and all sounds from other students disappeared from earshot. The voice did not come again as she cautiously made her way, but the feeling of someone being with her only grew stronger with each step she took. As she neared the halfway point, she slowed her pace until she was barely moving forward at all. It felt as though someone's eyes were all over her body, but she had yet to see anyone inside any of the open, empty classrooms on the way.

She tried to swallow, but her throat was dry. There was a weight on her chest, so heavy she could only suck in tiny, shaky breaths. Deciding to head back, she turned around as swiftly as possible only to gasp as she slammed right into someone standing behind her.

"There you are, my dear!" the same voice exclaimed. She opened her lids and tried with all her might to push away from a mass of pink and white polka-dotted fluff, but she was encased by arms that held her tighter the more she attempted to free herself. Heart racing, feeling as if it were ready to beat right out of her chest, her eyes frantically darted off to each side to search an escape route, until they made their way up to see the face of who was trapping her—a man, with dark hair and a mischievous grin, who was looking right at her with piercing green eyes. Chills ran up her legs and spine, and she pushed her hands deep into his white coat until her arms were fully extended, but despite her efforts he kept the lower half of her body pressed to his.

"Relax, I'm not going to hurt you," he assured, slowly releasing his grip around her waist. Her heartbeat began to slow with the sound of his voice; soft and smooth. "I'm simply here to help." His intense gaze never left her eyes, and it was as if she couldn't pull away no matter how much she might have wanted too.

"Help how?" she finally muttered, pupils still locked with his.

"You're a student of the Exorcist Cram School, are you not?"

"Y-yes!" she gasped. There had yet to be even the slightest mention of the Cram school since she arrived on campus, and it was enough to cause her to question if she was even in the right place. To hear someone finally say these words was like a watering hole in the middle of the Sahara desert.

He grinned devilishly, exposing sharp teeth. "That's what I thought. Please, don't be frightened. My name is Johann Faust, I'm here to escort you to your classes, my dear," he said, removing his top hat and bowing. "Follow me." With a flip of his cape, he was headed down the hall.

Confused, skeptical, but relieved, she decided there was no harm in following. Although his name sounded familiar, she had no idea exactly who this strange man was; however, he offered the only ray of hope there was in order to get to the much-anticipated destination, and she decided that was enough to trust him. The two of them passed empty classroom after classroom in silence, and as she looked him over, something in the air about him seemed familiar. She had just met this man, yet it was almost as if she had known him from somewhere.


	3. Chapter 3, Keys

Chapter 3. Keys.

After walking in silence for a couple of minutes, Johann stopped and spun around saying, "I do apologize for the oddity of our meeting, dear; as you see, it would be silly of me to be seen perusing the halls with a pretty young student such as yourself." He pivoted on one foot continuously until he was facing the direction of which he had been walking, and then continued his stroll, twirling his pink umbrella.

Her gut sank. "What are you talking about?"

"Don't mind that—now, tell me little flower, what do you think of the University so far? How are your classes looking, is everything to your liking?" he asked, looking at the over his shoulder with sharp eyes.

In her eye was a glint of contempt while she furrowed her brow in confusion. "And what business is that of yours?" she yapped. Why on earth would he be asking such odd questions, and what did that have to do with cram school, she wondered.

He let out a sly chuckle. "Oh, it's all of my business."

She closed her lids and shook her head, locks being tossed loosely around her face. Surely this man was crazy, she scoffed to herself. Almost before she could finish her thought, the sound of his cape flapping caused her eyes to snap open, and only to see Johann looming over her figure with a look of hunger in his eye, slowly backing her up to the wall. Her back bumped into the cold, wooden surface, and once again she was unable to pull her gaze from his piercing stare. Her heart surged hard for a few seconds, and she felt a quiver begin to rise in her shins.

"It seems as if the little lamb doesn't believe me," he said lowly, exposing his sharp teeth as he sneered. "Why ever would that be?"

This is a…He's toying with me, she thought quickly, strength overcoming the weakness in her legs. Standing up straight, she squared her shoulders and scowled back at the man before her. "Who are you?"

His eyes narrowed, and he grinned wildly. "You know."

Yet again, her heartbeat was thrown into a frenzy, and almost as if he knew it, he pulled away from her, changing his demeanor once more; he tossed a hand in the air flamboyantly, threw his head back, and proudly roared: "I am Johann Faust V, proprietor of this fine establishment you are so humbly residing in," he bowed. "And I am simply doing my gentlemanly duty of escorting my most wondrous students to their ever-so-noble exorcist training classes on their first day!" Peering from the corner of his eye, he took in the character of the girl, curious if she had been properly distracted.

"P…propie… You're the headmaster?!" she shrieked, scrambling to keep a hold of her books and papers. It was no wonder she recognized his name, she thought to herself with shame overwhelming her stomach; but how could she have forgotten who the headmaster was, his name was printed clearly on the scholarship letter, inviting her to the school.

"Why, yes dear, I am. Now if you'll please—" his eyes wandered down as set a pair of gloved hands on her waist softly, and he could feel her body tense up beneath his fingers. His gaze shot up to her face for a moment, a smirk just barely tangible curling in the left corner of his mouth. "Just move off to the side here," he continued in a professional tone, stepping her to the right.

Her face was warm, and as his hands slid off of her curves she couldn't help but to think perhaps he lingered for a split second, but he abruptly turned to the wooden door she had been leaning against. She watched intently as he pulled a gold key from one of his pockets and inserted it into the lock, turning it slowly.

"This is how you will get to your classes. You can use this in any door, and it will take you to the same location." He looked over his shoulder to see the girl hovering behind him, eyes twinkling with eagerness which she tried so hard to keep under wraps. He tittered to himself.

She could barely contain herself as her mind ran rampant. Was she about to witness something that only exorcists and demons get to experience? Some sort of portal, things she had merely read about in the few obscure books she was able to scrounge up from libraries, new and definitely used books stores, and the occasional antique or oddity shop? Her knowledge of Gehenna, and the exorcist practice was spotty at best – it was hard to decipher what information in her unofficial exorcism and demonology books was the truth, and what was mere fable, or speculation at best. Many of the old texts were embellished with different religious beliefs, which often contradicted one another on specific issues, but a few hinted at phenomena such as what she was about to behold – dare she thought, magic.

The door creaked as it was pushed open, and the two of them were met by a strong, chilled draft. Inside the doorway was yet another hallway, but this one was vastly different than the halls of the University building. The tile floors were set in an odd formation, the walls and columns were painted a variety of colors over stucco and plaster. The air was thin and damp with the scent of vacancy. Johann stepped to the side and extended an arm out, motioning for the girl to walk through the entrance first. She hesitated before her foot finally made its move; the other wavered behind it, until she crossed through the frame and into the strange, dark hall. It was even bigger than the ones at the University.

"Now then," came the headmaster's voice from behind. "The key I just showed you is yours. Your class is down the hall. Give me your hand, would you?"

Distracted from her gawking, she spun around, eyes resting on his open palm. Glancing up to his face, she couldn't help a feeling of embarrassment wrapped innocently in shock come over herself; though not wanting to disobey the highest ranking authority in the school that she had received a full scholarship for, she submitted by placing her finger tips lightly atop his. Two lavender gloves engulfed the whole of her hand and stayed there for what seemed like a few minutes, and she couldn't help but to get lost in how soft the material was across her skin. The gloves shifted once more, something cold entered her palm, and the gloves guided her fingers until they closed over the object before leaving her.

Opening her hand, she looked over the foreign object: the key. Of course, she thought. How could she have forgotten already?

Wait—

"You said this key could work on any door, and it will send me right here?" She asked, meeting his gaze with unsympathetic eyes. Johann raised a brow and nodded, a question growing on his lips. "There are doors all along this hall we just walked. Why did we walk so long before you finally chose a door to walk through?"


	4. Chapter 4, Cram School

Chapter 4. Cram School.

The silence was thick enough to cut with a blade as the two of them stood, eyes locked. Johann finally grinned and cackled, shattering the tenseness of the situation. "Clever girl, you are. Exactly why I invited you to my school in the first place!" he boasted. However, her expression did not waver, and he could tell that she demanded a true response. His nose crinkled as the smile left his face for a moment, and then his expression softened. "To answer your question, I merely wanted to spend some time with you, finally. I've watched your school career through the years, and you were such a promising student, I couldn't wait to meet you." He smiled coyly, with a glint in his eye. "As I do with all of my students, naturally."

The girl's expression still didn't change for some time after Johann finished explaining himself as she mulled over his response, skeptical. There was something about him that was off, but she couldn't place it, and perhaps she was just facing too many trust issues. Brushing the feeling aside as best as she could, she sighed heavily, supposing that in some way or another it made sense for the commissioner of an exorcist school to meet the new recruits face-to-face on the first day.

Sensing her acceptance, Johann extended an arm down into the dim cram school hall once more. "Please," he spoke softly, in such a gentlemanly manner, that it made her second guess her distrust even more so. She gripped her things tightly to her chest, and proceeded down the hall, the man in white following closely behind.

"First year students will be through this door here," he said, speaking close to her left ear while pointing over her right shoulder. She had decided to pay him no mind, and worry most about getting to her class and beginning her official studies. Placing her hand on the knob, her entrance was interrupted by the headmaster once again.

"This is unfortunately where I take my leave of you, little flower."

Gasping, she turned back to him abruptly, gasping. "Well then, I would like to at least thank you, sir Faust!" A feeling of guilt had balled in the pit of her belly.

He smiled modestly. "Whatever for?"

"For giving me this most gracious opportunity to attend your University and for escorting me to my exorcist-in-training classes!" she cried, bowing. Perhaps she had been too rude, she thought; it needed to be known how grateful she actually was. She didn't want to risk ever losing the scholarship that he had given her.

His hand rested lightly on her head for a moment, and she felt his fingers dive into the sea of her hair on their way down her locks. "No need to thank me, my dear girl. Besides…" The hand moved down along her cheek, her soft hair still slipping out from between lavender fingers, only to find her chin. His thumb grazed her bottom lip as it moved to caress her chin, and then brought her head up until she was looking at her headmaster once more. "You will see me again quite shortly, I'm sure," he spoke smoothly.

And with that, he headed back down the hall; she watched him carefully until he was out of sight. Looking him over, she was a little surprised that this man was the director of the University, and of True Cross Town. There had been rumors that he was indeed an odd man, but she never would have imagined her first time meeting him would be as strange as it had just been. The first day on campus, before her first class had even started, left her hoping it couldn't get any stranger. Turning back to the class door, she drew in a deep breath to prepare herself for whatever would be next, and entered.

Inside the classroom, there were only a couple students sitting at the desks, and the room was noiseless. The walls were dirty, with cobwebs tracing the corners of the ceiling; the room was disorganized, and the furniture was nearly as ancient as the craftsmanship of the building. Deciding not to draw any unnecessary attention to herself, the girl made her way to the back of the room and sat at a desk near the wall the door was located on. A small group of boys were in the room at the time, two of which smiled and waved slightly as she walked through the rows of worn desks to her chosen spot. In the back was someone in a black hoodie, feet propped up, playing a portable gaming system.

Setting her things down, she scooted her chair close to the wall and leaned against it. It was surprising to her how few people were in the oversized storage room, and she sincerely hoped there would be more recruits than just the current handful. She decided to finally open her textbooks and familiarize herself with them before class started, perhaps even get a jump on studying. Over time, a couple more students entered the room, but she really only noticed when a couple of chatty girls drew her attention away from her books, otherwise, it was very hushed.

She wasn't sure how long of a wait it had been before the sound of the door opening came again. However, she didn't particularly care unless it was the teacher, so she kept her eyes on the pages before her – real, true, exorcist books. Nothing between these covers was speculation, these were official books of the True Cross Order, and she soaked up every single black letter printed on that paper like a sponge tasting its first bit of water. It wasn't until a familiar name bounced off of the lonely walls that she looked up.

By the door stood Rin Okumura, the boy she had met just hours before. A slight smile bore down in her cheeks, happy that she would know one person even just slightly. She waved silently from her corner, and he beamed excitedly in response before he sat down at another desk in the middle of the room. A small white Scottish terrier with a pink polka dot bow around its neck followed closely behind, and she couldn't help but to giggle quietly to herself when it jumped onto Rin's lap. She wouldn't have guessed him to be an animal person.

The door clicked open once more and a young man in a long dark coat entered the room – Rin's brother. Instead of sitting at a desk like a normal student, Yukio marched to the front of the room and placed a briefcase on the teachers' desk. Turning to the quaint audience before him, he introduced himself as the instructor. The girl watched keenly ad Rin flew from his seat and cried out in disbelief of who the instructor was, and she was taken aback a bit at how two brothers so close of age could know so little of one another. Yukio went on, seemingly ignoring his fiery brother, and spoke about how he had studied demons, and exorcism since a very young age.

She smiled warmly, as she wasn't alone. Someone was very similar to herself, she thought; although, he must have had much better connections to have finished his studies at such a young age, and earned the title of teacher by the time she was to begin her courses. If only, she sighed. But at least she had this opportunity, and that she was thankful for. She had made it this far without any help, and there was no turning back after this.

"Is there anyone who still has not received a Temptaint?" Yukio asked. The girl looked around the room to see how many hands went up before raising her own hand bashfully. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed the white terrier had looked back at her; perhaps it was because she moved. "In that case, we'll start with the Temptaint Ritual."

The young teacher began describing how the room was left vacant for so long, that it had become infested with hobgoblings, a type of low level demon. He mentioned how he would use them for the ritual by drawing them out, and inflicting wounds onto those who have yet to obtain a temptaint. A nibble, a scratch, a bite; just a small wound to inflict enough damage to the physical being, to awaken the spiritual being within, and allow the future exorcist to be able to see demons even when they didn't wish to be seen.

All of a sudden Rin exploded from his seat and yelled at his brother once more. Yukio tried to brush him off yet again, telling Rin to have a seat, but that didn't stop Rin from demanding some sort of explanation.

What a hothead, the girl thought to herself, resting her chin in her hand.

Finally, Yukio addressed Rin, letting him know he would give him a thorough explanation. The teacher decided to put the class on hold and in turn, asked everyone to step outside for the time being. While other students whined or cursed angrily at Rin, the girl sighed a bit, but obediently collected her belongings.

As she walked past the rows of desks, she felt something alarmingly familiar; it was if something was watching her, like eyes on the back of her head, burning into her very soul. This was a feeling she had become all too accustomed to, as she had been experiencing it from the time she was very little. Despite the frequency and the duration, each time it happened it still shook her nerves. It was as if something was in the room with her, watching her, perhaps right behind her. At times she could nearly feel the body lingering just out of reach, or feel the breath of something swirl over her skin. Her heart would be beating so hard, pumping fight or flight instincts through her veins in the form of pure adrenaline; she would turn sharply to try to catch sight of it, but it was always nothing. And then it would vanish as if it was never there before.

This feeling that plagued her throughout her entire lifetime was one of the propelling factors that led her to start collecting old texts on demons, spirits, and mythology, which sparked her interests in demonology and becoming an exorcist. There were things, beings, which she could feel, that she could not see. And she wished more than anything to know what they were.

She stopped dead in her tracks, the hair rising on the back of her neck. Slowly, she turned her head, of course not expecting to see anything. No other classmates were left besides Rin, who was by the teachers' desk in the front of the room. Perhaps it was one of these hobgoblins, she thought – but it felt precisely the same as it always did. It was specific, like the same presence most of the time.

Looking back at her was the little white terrier sitting atop the desk she had just passed.

The girl furrowed her brow, then continued on her way out of the room.


	5. Chapter 5, Special

Chapter 5. Special.

When the class returned to the room, everything was a mess. From the sounds of it, the two brothers had been in a pretty heavy fight as there was a massive amount of commotion from inside the room, including gunshots, yet everyone was still surprised by the condition the room was in when they reentered. Some students asked Yukio what had happened, and he informed them that the hobgoblins had gotten out of control and had to be eliminated, and that the Temptaint Ritual would have to wait for another day.

At the end of the lecture, when the class was excused, Rin hung back while all the other students existed. The girl took notice, and assumed that he was waiting for Yukio. As she was about to leave the classroom, she heard the teacher call her name, stopping her in her footsteps. "Could you come here, please?"

A little shocked, she nervously walked back over to the professors' desk as he packed his things back into the leather briefcase. There was a cold, serious air about him. "Y-yes sir?" she stuttered, her thoughts jumbled with thoughts of being the only student to be addressed directly.

Yukio adjusted his glasses. "I wanted to inform you that there seems to be an issue with your Temptaint Ritual."

"What are you talking about?" she questioned, her confusion beginning to be quite clear on her face. How could there have been a problem with her ritual, she thought; the rituals hadn't even happened yet!

"I'm not sure of the details, but I've been given the orders to postpone your Ritual until further notice. If you have any questions, I'm afraid that I have no further information; you might need to take it up with our headmaster, Sir Johann Faust." Yukio spoke plainly, closing his briefcase.

Faust. A faint scowl scrunched across her forehead. "Thank you, sir."

It was at that time that Rin moved over to the girl, and greeted her with a grin and an exuberant "Hey!" Already not in the best of moods, she looked back at him as if to say 'what.' He continued as if he didn't notice, or didn't want to notice, the air surrounding her that said 'I don't want to talk right now.' "So, how cool is it that we met earlier, and just happen to be in the same exorcist program, too!"

She nodded, pushing her bag higher up onto her shoulder, and left the room, Rin closely in tow. She couldn't help but to smile quietly at the boy's happy-go-lucky, care-free personality, and decided it wouldn't hurt to engage in conversation. "Yeah. It's kind of funny how life works like that, huh?" There came a pause, and she appeared lost in thought for a moment. "It seems stuff like that always happens in my life. As if someone has something planned out for me beforehand."

"Like a big guy in the sky sort of deal or what?" Rin asked. The girl just shrugged. "That's silly," he scoffed, jokingly. "I mean, obviously demons are real – that's why we're here, I mean – but God? There's no way!" he boasted, trying to get her to laugh even in the slightest. She responded by giggling quietly, and the two of them walked in silence for a bit, unsure of what to say to one another as the sounds of their footsteps echoed through the dark, empty halls.

"Hey," she started, looking around. "Where's your little dog?"

Rin scratched his head. "Oh, he's not really my dog. He's just a mutt that followed me to class – yeah! A mutt!" he laughed nervously. Changing the subject, he began: "Hey, so I was thinking, maybe we should hangout sometime? I mean, you know, as friends. Considering God put us together and all – wouldn't want to upset the old man!" he snickered through his toothy grin.

Placing her key in the door, she turned it slowly and paused. "I think I might actually really like that, Rin." She finished by smiling sweetly at him, and she saw a tinge of blush sweep over his cheeks. "Just let me know when!"

"Sure thing!" He exclaimed excitedly, watching the girl walk through the door back into the university.

The door closed behind her, Rin no longer following. She found it a bit odd, until the realization struck her that he must have waited back in the classroom for the sole reason of talking to her, and she couldn't help but feel a little flattered.

Walking across the courtyard to the dorms, with a map in her face, she once again felt a presence like eyes on her back. At this point in her life, she had gown rather accustomed to this sort of sensation and was able to shrug it off a majority of the time. The only times it really irked her was when she was doing something rather private and it felt as if eyes were on her. She shivered at the thought, the clack of her heels dancing against the buildings and back to her. There must be demons here at this school, she thought. The perception of someone watching her was prevalent on her first day here at the University, and there could be no other explanation, she assured herself.

It was beginning to get dark since classes ran late, due to the mishap in her first exorcist training class, and an eerie gust began blowing in as she peered around the empty courtyard behind her. Her eyes wandered up over the buildings and rooftops, attempting to see anything that might explain the sensations she was experiencing. However, not like she would be able to see a demon if it was there, anyways; a demon could only be seen by a human if they wished to be seen, or if the human had received a temptaint.

Defeated and frustrated, she sighed heavily and scurried towards her dorm building.

558…

559…

600.

She stopped in front of the door at the end of the hall. It was the top floor, and most of the rooms she passed seemed to be vacant. Looking over the piece of paper in her hands, she reread the statement she has issued, telling her which classrooms in which buildings were hers, and what dorm room in which dorm building was hers. She triple checked to make sure she had gotten it right. "I guess this is it," she muttered to herself.

She found that the door was unlocked, and inside was a rather prodigious room for a dorm. She had imagined the dorms on this campus would be larger than the typical University, but nothing like she discovered beyond the entrance.

The carpets were plush and luxurious, the paint on the walls was fresh and rich in color, and even the trim was even quite extravagant. Looking at the furniture, you noticed it was obviously expensive just by style alone and the quality was nothing but exceptional. On the left side of the room, there was a small kitchenette in the corner, next do an open bathroom door, where she could see expensive stone tile upon the floor and walls. In the far corner next to the kitchenette were a small, but overstated dining table and four chairs overlooked by a large window. A cherry wood desk was placed under the window on the right, and next to it in the other corner was a rather comfortable looking chair and side table. On the right side of the room were two grandiose glass doors, opening up to a single bedroom.

Her jaw dropped, astonished that this was just a dorm room; it was the size of an average apartment. Setting her bags down by the entrance, she removed her coat and hung it by the door, eyes still perusing the residence she was assigned. Her back ached from the day, and beckoned her to lie down, so she made her way towards the French doors. Through the glass, she could see the blurry picture of a bed suited for a king. Pushing the doors open, she looked around and took in the beautiful curtains framing the window on the left. On the right of the room was an oversized wardrobe with intricate carvings. And the statement of the room was the massive bed placed directly in the center with a large headboard, luxurious linens like clouds of wine, and more pillows than she could have believed possible to fit onto a mattress. A single silver platter was placed in the center of the cushion, with only a cream envelope on it, her name written neatly in calligraphy. Cocking her head to the side, she picked it up and examined it. It was some of the thickest parchment she had ever felt in her whole life, leading her to conclude that it was ridiculously expensive. However, upon the back, instead of what she would assume would be a wax stamp to seal it shut like she had seen in all the movies, a simple children's' sticker was in its place.

Ripping it open, a letter and a key was found inside. She unfolded the paper to read what it said.

 _"Dearest flower,_

 _Welcome to your dorm room, I chose it for you personally. If the décor is not to your liking, please notify me and I shall have my design staff change it to your desired specifications._

 _Enjoy ~_  
 _Johann"_

Her face grew warm.


	6. Chapter 6, Rules of the Game

Chapter 6. Rules of the Game.

"Brother?"

"What is it, Amaimon?" Johann sighed heavily as he was leaning over the amounts of paperwork on his desk.

"Tell me, what is it about this girl that intrigues you so?" Amaimon inquired while tossing a lollypop around in his mouth. He rested on the large window sill of the University office, as if the builders' intentions were for it to be a bench, examining the students in the courtyard; some were walking, on their way to classes or dorms, while some were sitting and resting near the fountain or beneath the trees on the outskirts of the square.

Smirking to himself, the headmaster placed his pen down casually and sat back in his chair, looking up towards the exceptionally high ceiling. He crossed an arm below his elbow, and began to stroke his goatee with sharp black nails, thinking back on all the many years he had been in Assiah, the women he had been involved with, and the time he had spent watching this very girl develop. He sat in silence for quite some time before moving, lost in thought as his mind replayed certain points in his lifetime, and searching for the right words. Amaimon waited rather impatiently, tapping his toes on the glass of the window with a plain expression. After a while, Johann exhaled, deciding to finally answer his younger brothers' question.

"Every now and then, an exceptional human is born." He started, folding his lengthy digits together and resting his elbows on the chair arms. "And occasionally, we demons become drawn to these particular beings for reasons we are at times unaware of. Be it their strong will, an innocence, a natural-born gift of theirs, or their being more keen to certain things – sometimes it's just a combination that we can't even figure out. If you had spent more time in Assiah playing the game as I have, instead of destroying everything, you'd know this by now Amaimon," he lectured, turning to the green haired boy who was still studying the humans below. "And as demons, you know we do love a challenge."

"Sort of like how father pursued that priest friend of yours who raised our youngest brothers, because he was the only human he couldn't possess. Still, I prefer the challenges of real opponents."

"Humans are fascinating to say the least, but all too easy to trick. I can't count how many I've convinced to wager their own souls; it's hardly any fun anymore. But…" he paused, a smirk curling on his lips. "The ones who aren't so simple minded prove to be quite the opponent - in a sort of battle of the wits."

"So, what are your plans for this one in this game of yours, Mephisto?" Amaimon questioned plainly.

"Simple, my brother." He answered sharply. "If she is indeed so strong willed, it will be an amusing contest for someone as skilled as I to break that will. I will merely corrupt her adorable human heart."

"Sounds like a lot of work for a human," Amaimon muttered, cocking his head to the side. "Still," he spoke more clearly: "I do see what you mean, she is rather striking. Maybe I should try my hand at this little game of yours, hm?"

Mephisto spun around in his chair and snarled at his brother. "Would you like me to send you back to Gehenna? I will make her mine, and you will not get in the way of that."

"Would you be worried I would win, brother?" Amaimon questioned, looking back at his elder brother with an un-embellished visage. "Besides," he said while placing his index finger on the window, "it appears our youngest brother may also be drawn to this little one."

The headmaster scowled and sprung from his chair to see what the green-haired nuisance was pointing at. He followed the direction of Amaimon's finger down into the courtyard, the air around him growing graver by the second until he laid eyes on them: the girl, walking through the courtyard, with Rin. Mephisto glowered as he observed Rin tease her, causing her to laugh.

"You might need to watch out," Amaimon harassed, sneering ever so slightly through tired eyes.

There was an uncertain knock on the office door. Instead of promptly answering as he normally would, Mephisto ignored it, continuing to watch the interactions between the two in the piazza with a dark expression. There was a second set of knocks, this time more insistent. Finally the administrator called out in a gravelly tone to the person beckoning him without breaking his stare, basted in loathing: "Who is it?"

There came a cough. "It's Okumura – Yukio Okumura, Sir."

Amaimon gave his elder brother a pleading look, as if to say he didn't want to go back to Gehenna. Lifting his head slowly while still keeping his dis-pleasured eyes on Rin, Mephisto snapped his fingers. There was a puff of smoke, and a green hamster plopped onto the window sill. "Come in, then," he spoke brashly.

The door creaked open as Yukio entered, and he quietly closed the door behind him, trying his best not to obviously distract the head of the True Cross Academy, and the Japan branch of the True Cross Order, as he looked deep in thought by the window.

"I'm very busy Okumura – what is the meaning of this visit?"

"I have a special request for you. Shiemi Moriyama would like to join the cram school."

Mephisto turned away from the window finally to address Yukio. "Moriyama, the little blonde girl from the supply shop?" he asked, raising a brow. How interesting, he thought. "And what is your opinion on the matter, teacher?"

"Yes, I was called out to exercise a demon from her; she has received a temptaint and requested a special consideration to allow her to join. Personally, I feel she would do well once she realizes her own strength."

Mulling it over, it took the administrator few minutes to reply. Remembering Rin's expedition to the supply shop that he had overshadowed the prior day, and how the young demon acted towards the girl, he thought this might be a perfect distraction for his younger brother. "Alright then, fine. She will not be a University student however, and will not receive a dorm room. I can't keep giving out scholarships to anyone who wishes to join, now can I?" he said, poking at Yukio and his brother, who were at the University on scholarships as well. "You will be in charge of her well-being at the cram school, since you wish her to be here so much." Quickly snapping his fingers, a key appeared in his hand, which he held out for the young teacher.

Yukio bowed. "Thank you, sir Pheles. You will not regret this." After taking the key and heading toward the door, he paused, palm gripping the handle and beginning to grow slightly clammy. "One more thing, Sir," Mephisto sat down in his chair and propped his legs up on his desk. "Having that girl wait, for whatever reason, to receive her temptaint may hinder her studies and ultimately hurt her progression in the program. I would like to request that you allow me to go through with the Temptaint Ritual, as she is now the only student yet to receive one."

His face coiled in disapproval. "I think you are but all out of special requests for now, boy. Leave her Ritual to me."


	7. Chapter 7, Time Passes

Chapter 7. Time Passes.

 _Warning: Language_

Over the next few weeks at True Cross University, the girl studied hard and progressed through the cram school program, despite not yet receiving her temptaint. Having such great determination had only kept her from falling behind for a short while. For a majority of the lessons, she was unable to see the demons that the classes might have been working with, not even the small soot demons – but she knew of them, and seemed to be adept at sensing when demons may be in the vicinity, whether or not they would appear for her. Learning to protect herself from demons that chose not to show themselves proved to be one of her greatest weaknesses, and still the teachers couldn't let her receive a temptaint. In turn, it was difficult for the girl to be on the offense, since she often could not identify the demon in order to use the methods needed to exorcise it. For such reasons, she was beginning to fall behind the more the classes advanced to using real demons.

The girl had grown rather close to Rin and the new exorcist-in-training, Shiemi, and by association, their own first-year teacher, Yukio. She had been excited when Shiemi first started classes, since it was apparent that Yukio and Rin knew her from elsewhere, and Rin had been her only friend up until that point. The two of them had spent many hours walking to classes together or taking walks through campus or the town, talking and laughing—but she was eager to make new friends.

Over Moyiama's first few weeks at the cram school, she was introduced to the girl by Rin, and all four of them had gotten together on several occasions. Sometimes they went to Shiemi's while she had to watch over the shop, or went out for food or shopping. They had even made a trip to the theme park within the town, coined as Mephy Land; however Shiemi decided not to go and gave a reason that sounded fairly made up. The girl had to admit to herself, that it was lonesome without her new found friend, but poor Shiemi was terribly shy, and she couldn't help but to wonder if that was the real reason why the blonde girl cancelled. Rin had won the girl a large stuffed animal from one of the strength games, which he proudly carried around for her, but he made the trip awkward when he seemingly grew bitter towards his brother when Yukio shared his food with the girl. Part of her wished she would have called off the day's plans when Moriyama said she couldn't go.

When the group had come to the girls' private dorm for the first time, they were astonished by the size and finishes, and Yukio made mention that the private dorms were reserved only for students of utmost importance – like princes and princesses, the children of prime ministers and other important politicians, and students from families who spent a year's tuition like pocket change. There was only one of those types of rooms placed on the top floor of each dormitory, so there were very few available and frequently the headmaster opened them up for bidding to settle the dispute. Often times, the whole top levels were reserved for the students' staff to have their own quarters while serving. This news of course shocked the girl, who was an average student at best, who came from a small town full of average people. After the girl assured her friends that she was none of those things, the question then came to: how come she was so special? And frankly, she wasn't sure. Yukio had gotten quiet after that.

Every now and then, the strange Johann Faust would make an appearance to the girl, or would randomly come to announce something to the whole first-year class. The girl couldn't help but to notice Yukio's sharp eyes upon the headmaster whenever he entered the room, or whenever he was around in any setting, since sometimes Sir Faust even appeared while the young group of friends was out and about within True Cross Town. It was growing increasingly more apparent to everyone that he began to treat the girl differently than the other first years; he lingered on her longer, called her out more often, popped up randomly as she walked the halls, or the campus, or the town; he would engage in conversation with her specifically, or at least kept an eye on her while addressing or conversing with others. If that girl was in the vicinity, Faust was distracted, and some people were beginning to take notice—especially her group of friends.

There were a couple of times that the headmaster had called the girl to his office, or would ask to walk with her on her way to and from classes; he would inquire how she was enjoying it at his University, if she was having any problems, if she had enough money to get by, and so on. Their interactions grew to be more relaxed, speaking to one another as if they were colleagues. On one occasion, Faust walked into a coffee shop while Rin and the girl were sitting in the corner, invited himself to join the two, and began asking silly questions, such as whether the students had begun to develop even the tiniest little seeds of feelings for anyone, as such young creatures normally do. Rin grew silent, blushing lightly under Faust's stare, while the girl insisted that love was something archaic that served no real purpose in life except to fill the void of loneliness. She argued that one could fill such a void with dreams and goals, for one loved their dreams and goals and that's all they ever really needed. She went on to say that if someone ever felt lonely on a cold night, there was nothing wrong with cuddling or even fucking a friend to fill those primal needs—that had of course gotten Rin's attention—but it wasn't something she felt needed to be a focus for those who saw a purpose in their lives. Johann rebutted her practical debate with words of whimsy, romanticizing love, and sex as something most poetic that left the girl flushed.

At first, the girl was completely oblivious to the special treatment by her headmaster; maybe because she didn't want to see it, or because she didn't find herself to be interesting enough to deserve attention from anyone, much less the dean of the school. After her friends began to take notice and tell her, she tried to convince them that he was just worried, taking interest in his scholarship students. But that was the peculiar part—Rin and Yukio were scholarship students, but Rin hadn't noticed any special interest being taken in him. Yukio stayed quiet yet again.

Once Izumo made a passing snide remark about the headmaster's pining for the girl being the only reason why she hadn't flunked out of the exorcist program, the girl began to speculate that her friends weren't just biased or making things up, or reading between lines that weren't there. Of course, Izumo could have been being a jealous bitch, as always. But finally the girl started to dissect her headmaster's actions, and was a tad creeped out by Faust's behavior. What could he want with her, she wondered; and why her? She spent more time critiquing herself in the mirror, thinking surely he wasn't attracted to her by any means—when in actuality, she much more attractive than she let herself believe. Shima had even made passing comments about how she should model, but then again, Shima found everything with two legs and a vagina to be pretty appealing.

It was about that time that something changed in Faust. Instead of him randomly showing up places, or being at a location that the girl arrived at, he was clearly seeking her out and addressing that he was looking for her for one reason or another. Most of their chats were him checking up on her, making sure she was indeed doing well in the school; she would mention how she was falling behind due to her lack of temptaint, and he would assure her that he would look into it for her. He kept it as professional as possible at first, squelching the feelings in her gut about his actions and interest seeming outlandish, as it turned into a comprehension that he just cared. She began growing accustomed to seeing his face a few times a week, and over time, their talks grew longer and more subjective. She would attempt to deflect his personal questions, but with careful prodding the two of them would ultimately engage in conversation that branched just ever so slightly beyond the professional.

Until it finally broke through that barrier of professionalism when Sir Faust asked the girl to accompany him to dinner. He had called it a meeting, but ended up rented out the banquet room at one of the nicest restaurants in the town, and had a five course meal catered to them as their conversation covered a variety of topics, exchanging thoughts, ideologies, personal goals, amusing stories, and dreams. He was so well poised, established, well spoken, and charming. It was that night that the girl began seeing him as more than just a headmaster, but instead as a friend. A notably handsome friend at that, but she quickly stopped herself; he was the head of the University, after all, and there was no use letting her mind wander anywhere for even a second.

The night ended with Faust writing an advance for her allowance so she could afford some optional course textbooks to get extra studying materials, and making a note in her file to have the cram school teachers cater to her better. He then had his limo driver take her to her dorm, where he opened the door for her and sent her off with a kiss on the hand.


	8. Chapter 8, Gossip Girl

Chapter 8. Gossip Girl.

The following day, the small group of misfit friends went to the Okumura's dorm building, an old vacant structure that was decommissioned a few years ago to be prepped to be torn down and rebuilt, though the project was put on hold for the time being. The twins had given the grand tour of the massive building, showing them where the cafeteria and the baths were. The two left the girls in one of the activity rooms to lounge on the couch and watch TV, while the boys were down in the kitchen preparing a casual meal for all of them.

The girls spent some time in silence, watching whatever was on the large television, and flipping channels to try to find something interesting to relax to. Turning the channel again, they landed on a drama show, where the handsome lead actor confessed his feelings to the smart female character; they were an unlikely couple, but the girl supposed that's what had made it all the better throughout the duration of the show. It seemed as though the female role was supposed to be the head boss' secretary, and the male lead, which was her boss and owner of the company, had fallen in love with her after spending so much time together. The female assistant didn't take his confession very well, claiming that they were too different to make it work, and it was unprofessional to be seen in that state. Of course, the male lead dramatically stated that he didn't care, and kissed her regardless.

Turning to Shiemi, who was watching intently, the girl decided to break the silence. "So, which twin do you think is cuter?" she giggled.

Shiemi's neck snapped around like an owl as she screeched. "Wh-what?! I don't think of Rin or Yuki like that at all, they're just my friends!" she cried as her face grew red as a tomato. That was all the girl needed to confirm that there really was something there.

"I know that, but that doesn't mean you can't think they're cute. I'm not asking you who you'd rather make out with, I'm just asking who you think is cuter," she grinned, crossing her legs onto the couch like a preschooler.

Calming down, Shiemi looked away as she thought through her words very selectively. "Well… I suppose Rin is pretty cute, but Yuki has a real attractive quality in the way that he holds himself. He's so mature and confident. I've always looked up to him for that. Rin is very funny and carefree, and has such a big heart."

"They're like polar opposites," the girl spoke bluntly, turning her attention back to the show on television. The owners' partner walked it on them, who apparently also had feelings for the girl, and began threatening the security of the company.

"Yeah, I didn't believe they were brothers at first, let alone twins," Shiemi continued. "To be honest, back before I had even met Rin, I used to have kind of a crush on Yuki when we were younger—" she clasped her hands over her mouth and groaned. "Please don't say anything!"

The girl chuckled to herself. "Don't worry," she assured, "your secret is safe with me."

The blonde girl turned bright red once more. "Wh-which one do you think is more attractive?!" Shiemi blurted, not wanting to be left alone admitting something she found to be very embarrassing.

"Rin," the girl said matter-of-factly. She glanced at Shiemi's awe-struck face. "I mean, like you said, he's really funny and carefree. He's like comedy relief—I don't know, it's kind of endearing. Yukio is a bit stoic for my taste."

"Oh..." came Shiemi's hushed tone. She looked down at her hands, deep in thought. "It's not like it matters anyways…I get the feeling both of them are more interested in you, than they would ever be interested in me."

A little caught off guard, the girl did a double take before finally asking for clarification. "What are you talking about?!"

"I've seen the way both of them look at you. Yuki is more reserved, but I can still see," her voice trailed off as she looked down. There was a pause for a few seconds, then she looked back up at the girl beside her. "You're beautiful! And I'm sure they think so too—everyone thinks so! You don't even have to try and you get attention from all the guys."

Eyes wide in disbelief, the girl took a few moments to process what Shiemi had just said to her, trying to figure out exactly where it all came from. Finally, she broke out in a loud, uncontrolled cackle. "Oh that's rich! Okay, maybe people think I'm like next door neighbor pretty, but that doesn't mean they're interested in me," she dismissed, wiping below her eye. "Besides, I know for sure that those boys kinda have a thing for their little Shiemi – you're adorable, but their caring for you definitely goes far beyond what you look like. They don't like me."

Once again, Shiemi's face grew bright, tomato red at hearing the girl say those words. The thought of Rin or Yukio liking her as more than just a friend was almost unbearable. She kept replaying what her new friend had said, getting more and more embarrassed, until she thought of something—had she implied no one was interested in her? "Hey," Shiemi began. "What about Sir Faust?"

The girl froze. "What about him?"

"Do you think he's attractive?"

Her ears suddenly felt like someone blew hot air on them from under the veil of her long hair. "What kind of question is that? He's the headmaster!" she snorted.

"Well, you two seem to hang around each other a lot. You guys just went to dinner last night, didn't you?"

"It was a meeting!" she deflected.

"At a restaurant," Shiemi giggled. "That seems more like a date. You don't think he's interested in you at all?"

Pursing her lips, the girl put her nose in the air. "No way!" she shouted. "We're totally like work friends—acquaintances even—his interests are clearly no more than that!" Looking back over her shoulder, her gaze was met with the blonde's big, glittery blue eyes. A tight smile was on her face. "What, what are you looking at?"

The smile on her face grew larger. "Nothing," she said, plopping back onto the couch, resuming watching the drama on TV. The assistant could no longer deny her feelings for her boss, but due to the turmoil their interactions caused, she resigned from the company and said how they needed to go their separate ways. "I think you like him," she said under her breath.

"Do not."

"Don't what?" Yukio asked as he and Rin entered the room, platters of food in their arms.

"Don't worry about it," the girl said, sticking her tongue out and giggling. The boys set the plates of food down on the coffee table and pulled a couple chairs closer so they too could eat. Rin nabbed the remote from the girls and changed the channel to a comedy. This was the girls' first time trying Rin's home cooked meals, and they were both amazed at how amazing it looked and even smelled. They enjoyed some light conversation in between stuffing their faces with the delicious meal.

The sounds of their laughter carried out into the night, where unbeknownst to the group, a dark figure sat outside the window listening in to their conversation. The light of the silver moon peeked through the dark clouds for just a moment, landing on a set of eyes that shone like the calm forest. The whites of the eyes flashed brightly as they rolled to the side, peering at the window next to the figure, the low hum of a chuckle resonating almost noiselessly. "It seems that intentions need to become known," a smooth whisper came from the shadow, just as it jumped down from the ledge and vanished into the night.

Later on that evening, Rin had offered to walk the girls home himself so Yukio could get some things done. As they were leaving, Yukio grabbed the girls' arm and pulled her back into the dorm, leaving Rin and Shiemi outside together. Admitting his worries about her passing her coming exams, but knowing he couldn't go against his orders and go through with a temptaint ritual, he offered to tutor the girl in everything that he knew and then some, to help her as much as he possibly could. She nearly broke into tears as she threw her arms around him and thanked him repeatedly.


	9. Chapter 9, A Stroll in the Woods

Chapter 9. A Stroll in the Woods.

 _Warning: Mildly Suggestive content._

Waving good-bye to Rin and Yukio for the day, the girl prepared to walk to Shiemi's house, since she had stayed home that day. The two girls had a bit of a girls' day planned, especially since every time they wished to talk they were interrupted by one if not both of the boys, and clearly she could not interrogate Shiemi with either standing right next to them. A relaxing day was desperately needed, to get a break from all the hard studying she had been doing after classes and cram school with Yukio. The weather was warm and sunny, and Shiemi's shop was peaceful on such days.

As she was walking through the emptying University halls, her phone chimed with a text from Shiemi to make sure she was indeed on the way; she promptly replied to let her friend know that she was leaving. After sending the message, she noticed she had one unread text. It was from Rin. The time stamp led her to believe he must have sent it as class was getting out, and she hadn't checked her phone yet. Opening the message, she had to let out a laugh: he was asking her what she was doing that day. He seemed to be doing that a lot, lately; any free time he had aside from badgering his twin brother about field work, he was trying with all his might to be around Shiemi, or the girl. She deviously typed out, 'Going to have a girls day with Shiemi, maybe sunbathe a bit,' ending the text with a winky tongue-out emoticon. "That ought to give him a stir," she chuckled to herself as she envisioned him groaning in hypothetical pain. It's just like young boys to bounce back and forth between women, she thought to herself with a roll of her eye.

As she went to open the entrance doors and begin her trek outdoors through the wooded section of town to Shiemi's, a familiar voice called out her name. Her insides twisted in a loose knot as she turned around, eyes landing on the slender figure of Johann, trotting down the main stair case in a tailored, pin striped suit. She eyed him as nonchalantly as possibly, taking in his new ensemble with a hint of delight; he must have been in meetings today, she figured, as he looked unusually professional. She couldn't help but to find it to be a rather good look on him. Snapping out of her fish-eye lens view, she waved coyly.

"How funny running into you here," he said with a wink as he approached. "What are we up to on such a fine day, little flower?" He swooped in and pushed the door open for her, without skipping a beat, and invited himself to walk alongside the young girl through the square.

"I'm going to Shiemi's supply shop," she replied bashfully, trying to keep her gaze in front of her.

Turning abruptly, he stopped within her line of travel, causing her to come to a halt. "Would you mind if I tag along, then?" he asked casually with a spark in his green eyes. Sensing the girls' hesitation, he continued rather dramatically. "You see, I've been sitting in that dreadful office working all day, and with a day like today, it would be a shame not to be outside for a bit – especially if that time was spent with such a lovely lady, such as yourself," he finished with a sultry tone, pinching her chin between his gloved finger and thumb ever so lightly. His emerald green eyes flowed down over the angles of her face, only to land upon her lips; as ample and delicate as a blush rose.

She quickly pursed her lips, biting down on one carelessly, and pulled her gaze away from him before their eyes could meet. She could feel herself begin to blush; what if someone saw them and got the wrong idea? She tossed her head to the side, releasing it from the trivial caress, and nodded slightly.

The two walked in silence for minutes before he began with his usual ice breakers. He asked how classes were going. As always, they were good, it was just a lot of work to keep up with. He asked if she was enjoying her stay at the university. And of course, she absolutely was; she was so grateful for the opportunity to attend and for his hospitality he continued to show her. He asked her if she was getting by alright financially. She was toying around with the idea of getting a part time job in the city to earn some extra money; the school lunches were far too expensive – she preferred a home cooked meal anyways, but it still didn't leave her with much extra spending money. He only kind of grunted at the idea of her getting a job, but then began casually asking what sorts of things she would bring for lunches, if she made them herself, and what sorts of foods she liked to eat and drink. They exchanged in that type of conversation for a while as they hiked the wooded path, until the topic of foods, drinks, cooking, and restaurants was exhausted.

He then asked how the cram school program was going.

She had to think on it for a moment. There was nothing necessarily wrong. Again, she was so happy and thankful for the opportunity and excited to be an exorcist-prospect. But it was getting increasingly harder to keep up with the materials, pass the tests, all while attending regular university courses. "It's well, but it's been putting quite a bit of stress of me for not yet receiving a temptaint."

There was a pause.

The birds fluttered in the tree canopy above.

Finally, he asked something he had yet to ask before.

"Why do you want to become an exorcist?" his demeanor was very different than it had ever been. He peered over at her through just his peripherals, with sullen eyes.

The girl was caught off guard by this, and indeed she had yet to really open up to anyone about her own motives, much less her own headmaster. It was clear to everyone in the program that she wanted it; however she chose to keep her motivations to herself for the most part.

She turned her attention to some birds in the distance, peacefully cleaning themselves up in the trees. "It sounds silly," she began. "But I've just always kind of had a feeling that there was more to this world than meets the eye. My mom thought I just had a vivid imagination – I think eventually she began to worry about me. But part of me can almost….feel them. And most don't seem hostile."

His expression lightened, turning to almost wonder.

"In all honesty, I just wish we could all live in harmony. I feel there's so much we could all learn from one another if we just opened our eyes and hearts…" her voice trailed off as she watched the birds fly away. "I'm probably just being naive and hopeful is all though," she deflected with a defeated giggle.

It took him a minute to collect his thoughts while she looked into the trees, the golden sun poking through gaps in the leaves, shining brightly upon her.

"Not necessarily," he said, taking a step forward until she began to walk with him.

"Well I'm glad you don't think so," she replied, watching her feet with the same trodden smile, as if doubtful of her own thoughts.

"So you don't just automatically hate all demons then?"

"No!" she gasped. "I know we're kind of supposed too, but I mean, how could I hate something that's never done anything wrong to me?" she asked rhetorically, looking up at the tall man, eyes meeting. Within her gaze was something that was never often seen; something guarded, that finally cracked open, even if just the tiniest bit. He couldn't help but to smile at her; a real, genuine smile. Perhaps he thought her ways of looking at the world too naive and innocent, or perhaps he found her opening her heart so hopefully to the world inspiring. She had no idea. Letting her eyes drop back down to the cobblestone path before her, she quietly said: "Can I ask you something, Sir Faust? What made you decide to become an exorcist?"

Stopping, he slid his fingers down her arm and pulled her around by her hand until she was facing him. He cupped her hand in his palm and wrapped an arm behind the small of her back before she could even blink. "Like you, I too wanted nothing but peace and love between the worlds of Assiah and Gehenna."

Her stomach began to dance as he drew in closer, and as his nose brushed against her own, her eyes habitually closed. Her chest grew heavy and labored as if he was drawing the breath from her very lungs, but before anything more could happen, she tucked her chin ever so slightly.

Sensing her hesitancy, he released his pull around her back, and gripped her hip ad he pressed his forehead against hers moderately. Skimming his lips towards her cheek, he whispered, "Which is why I think it's a beautiful notion," into her ear.

Eyes wide in surprise, she pulled away to look him in the face, as if to check his expression and see if he was jesting. Instead, she found him to appear purely sentimental as his dark green orbs moved over her face. His gaze then wandered down to the hand resting along her hip bone, and as he did so, he slipped his other hand from her palm to her ribs, just below her breast. He placed his fingertips upon her so gingerly that they nearly hovered over her skin; her body tensed and released with expectation, beginning to turn warm. As he slid his hand down towards her hip, the contact with her body steadily increased until he was gripping her rather firmly with both hands, his intense eyes transfixed on her curves. "A beautiful mind to match a beautiful girl," he spoke with a slight heave in his voice.

The tips of her ears seared to hear him say that in such a way, her muscles turning stiff as she began to realize exactly what was happening. Just over her shoulder at the edge of the path was Shiemi's house—so close, but so far. In that exact spot the two of them were completely alone, shielded by the thick trees and vegetation, and the path that winded through them.

Skimming one of his hands back up her arm, he grasped her by the wrist and encouraged her to loosen her locked muscles and joints; as she complied, he draped her arm around his neck, and repeated the motion with her other limb. He then proceeded to slither both of his hands down her sides simultaneously, taking her in. Her body shuddered beneath him and her fingers burrowed themselves into the hair on the back of his head; all she could manage to do in response was let out a feeble, nervous laugh. His piercing eyes snapped back up to hers as a devious smirk spread across his lips.

Thoughts began streaming into her mind at rapid speeds. All of this had happened so suddenly, and she wasn't sure how to respond, if she should respond or just let it happen, or if she necessarily wanted this to be happening at that moment in time. Maybe, she thought, she wanted this to happen at some point, but who's to say she wanted it to be there of all places?

His hands slipped down past her hips, over her skirt.

As if almost saved by the bell, the girl's cell phone rang.

She nearly jumped out of her skin, and bolted from his grasp without meaning. Her heart raced as she dropped to her bag and scrambled to retrieve her phone, all the while, her very own administrator was enticing her to return to his clutches. "I-it's Shiemi," she stuttered anxiously. "She's probably wondering what's taking so long!"

Answering the phone, she quickly enlightened her friend that she was just around the corner and would be right there. Johann studied her adoringly as she struggled to steady her shaky hands and press the end call button, and tucked her hair behind her ear. She explained to him that she needed to get going, while her heart was beating so fast she could barely catch her breath through jumbled words.

Understanding, he nodded. As she turned away to put things back into her bag that she had hurriedly tossed aside, he reached down by some bushes. When she came back to face him, she found him bowing slightly with a hand outstretched, palm up.

Unsure, she gently placed her hand in his.

He then pulled a small bouquet of wild flowers which he had obviously just snatched up, from where he was holding them behind his back and presented them to the girl. "For you, my lovely little flower," he spoke, the flowers brushing up against his own face. Then with a wink, he bit down on a single bloom, and placed them into her hand.

As he walked back down the curve of the beaten path, and was swallowed into the woods, her face turned beat red thinking about what had just occurred. Was she imagining things, or did the owner of True Cross University just come on to her?

Her eyes withered down to the flowers in her hand, resting upon the one missing a few petals.


	10. Chapter 10, Fenrir

Chapter 10. Fenrir.

She sat in class doodling in her notebook, head resting in her hand, dazing off as the instructor droned on in the lesson. It was rather clear that the girl was struggling to concentrate lately, for what reason, others were unsure. She was frequently seen zoning out, looking through one object or another for extended periods of time, or fidgeting with something. However, when prompted, she would just smile warmly and say it was nothing.

Inside her head were thoughts were so many that buzzed around, thinking about what had happened the afternoon with Faust. Was she remembering the events correctly or was her mind just embellishing? Perhaps this was something he did frequently with female students. Was he just toying with her, she wondered? Perhaps he was sincerely interested. But, she questioned, was she even interested? Of course, she found him rather good-looking and had enjoyed their intellectual banters thus far. But she couldn't help but to doubt whether was she getting caught up in what was happening or if was she genuinely attracted to him. What if she was making a mountain out of a mole hill? Forget professionalism at this point, she thought – it was obviously something more than just friendly exchanges like she had previously thought.

Her mind meticulously ripped apart every interaction that she had with the man, studying each movement he had made, taking in the devious looks in his powerful emerald eyes, absorbing each word that had crossed his lips in his artfully sultry tone. She couldn't help but to get hung up on it. Or when his tone was as sticky as honey when he called her a little flower; she felt herself blushing a little bit.

Scribbling in her note pad, she reprimanded herself internally to get a hold of her thoughts. There was no way he was actually interested in her, she thought; after all, the two of them were just walking and chatting, having a casual conversation. That got quite personal. But the two of them were just friends, of course. And then…he almost kissed her? Her mind shot through a replay of that afternoon, and the feeling of his skin next to hers, the sensations that wracked her body as he ran his hands along her... Her whole face was obviously red. She pursed her lips and scribbled loudly with her pen once more.

Oh my god, she thought – he was definitely trying something.

The deep squealing of wood skidding across the tile floors snapped her out of her trance. When she looked up, face still burning, she found the class up and pushing all of the desks towards the walls of the classroom. Eyes darting around the room for some sort of clarification, she noticed Rin was just waking from another nap of his, and the teacher was gathering some items at the front of the room.

Throwing her notebook and spell book into her pack, she pushed her own desk to the wall with the added help of Suguro.

The instructor, Mr. Noihaus, then ordered the class to stand round in a circle with him, and proceeded to hand out small papers with an inscription on it. He then began chalking a similar symbol onto the floor; a large circular symbol, in the middle of where everyone was standing. He spoke as he drew, explaining what he was doing along the way. The girl quickly realized that he was going to summon a demon right before her very eyes. And perhaps, she began thinking excitedly, this one would show itself to her since he was such a strong tamer.

Noihaus squeezed a few drops of blood from his hand and recited some words. The girl waited anxiously for something to happen.

A hazy image rose from the floor in the center of the large symbol, however, she was still unable to make out what it was exactly. She groaned in disappointment as the class went on oohing and ahhing the creature before them, and eventually plugging their noses, claiming it was a Naberious.

She turned her attention back to the misty Naberious, and then closed her eyes in an attempt to take in the perceptions the animation was putting off. If this was what a naberious felt like when it was near, she wanted to make sure she was able to recognize that feeling once again in case she was ever in danger. It didn't smell that great in the classroom to her, but for all she knew it couldn't have been someone's feet – the smell wasn't as strong to her as it was to the others, unfortunately. But when she relaxed her mind and opened herself up completely, there was a slight feeling of a presence, darker than those of her classmates. It wasn't much, but it was something.

The teacher then informed the class that if ever their summoned demon turned on them, that all they had to do was disrupt or destroy the symbol from which it was summoned. He skated his foot over the chalk outline, and the feeble presence that the girl could once feel disappeared along with the hazy image.

"Who would like to give it a try?" Noihaus inquired.

Always a bit of a showoff, but talented nonetheless, Izumo was first to volunteer. After smearing a drop of blood onto both of her strips of papers, she recited a chant. The class burst out with applause at what she had summoned. It must have been a lesser demon, being tamed by an obviously inexperienced human, for the girl was unable to feel much of a presence and there was definitely little that she could see with the naked eye. The instructor congratulated the dark haired girl, who scoffed as if it was nothing to summon a demon, and the girl sighed heavily.

Shiemi volunteered next and began to beg her little piece of paper to show her anything.

"A baby greenman," the instructors voice came. "Excellent work Moriyama."

The girl chuckled to herself. It seemed fitting that Shiemi would summon something rather small, and adorable. The rest of the class grumbled lowly about how they were unable to summon anything from their papers. Someone made a remark that theirs might have been faulty – but everyone knew the truth.

"It seems we are not at a loss for potential tamers this year," Noihaus said, his voice indicating he was getting ready to dismiss the lecture.

"W-wait!" the girl stammered, unsure of what she was even doing. "I would like to try, if I may."

The professor eyed her and gave a half-assed smile that made her feel like a child who would never be able to accomplish such a task, but he would humor her anyways. Her gut sank. "If you wish. Give it a go, I suppose."

"Thank you, sir!" she exclaimed, turning her attention to the inscription in her hand with the most concentrated look plastered across her face. She may not be able to see it, she figured, but maybe she could still summon something. Closing her eyes, she drew in a deep breath and pricked her finger, and stamped it onto the trifling scrap of paper as hard a she could. Gripping tightly, she spoke the first few words that entered her mind in a manner that commanded attention:

"O Lord, I ask thee to release thy bonds, so that thy servant may in turn serve me in the fight for humanity…"

The lights suddenly went out, and the room grew even darker than the normal. The whole class gasped loudly as the ground began to shake, and Shima shouted, "And earthquake?!" Everyone scattered for the heavy wooden desks, gripping onto the legs and sitting under them for shelter. Suddenly, a strong whirlwind of gray dust blew out from the piece of paper held tightly within the girls' grasp, blowing her backwards and into the wall where she collapsed. For what seemed like minutes, the windstorm ravaged the classroom in its entirety; every person clung to something to keep from being tossed around like a ragdoll. Rin had grabbed Shiemi and stood, clinging to the door frame, shielding her with his own body. The girl managed to scurry to a desk and held on to one of the legs. The powder within the air was so thick that one couldn't see clearly across the room, and was blowing so harshly that each person had to shield their eyes or else risk being blinded by sand scratching their corneas. Struggled shrieks were drowned out by the sheer whir of the wind within the enclosed room.

As the gusts began to subside, the dust congregated a few feet in front of the girl. The class slowly unveiled their eyed to witness the stack swirl before her, until finally all of the grey matter condensed into one being; and the room was still.

Wiping her eyes, the girls initial reaction was to check on her classmates to make sure everyone was okay. Instead of everyone softly recuperating like she had envisioned, her eyes fell upon the expression of horror basted across every face her gaze landed on. It was then that her eye was drawn towards the dark mass which they all cowered beneath.

Standing before her was a large wolf-like creature, two of three times the size of a normal timber wolf. It faced the audience and inspected the humans, growling lowly within its throat.

"A wolf…?!" someone cried out, muddled.

The creature responded by snapping in the direction of the voice, but the girls shaking eyes could not be bothered to leave the beast in front of her to see who it was.

"No….!" Noihaus howled.

"Fools!" came a murky, bellowing voice. "I am no mere wolf! I am Fenrir, son of Loki!" the creature roared, it's lips curling into a menacing snarl. Slowly, it turned around, looking the girl dead in the eye. She couldn't conceal her trembling; one of the first demons which she ever got to truly see, and it was a gigantic, malicious beast.

How the fuck did I manage to summon this thing?! She questioned internally.

Fenrir lowered his great head down to the girl's level, his twisted snout relaxing with a flick of his tongue. "Sweet, innocent girl…" his voice was grand, but he spoke softly when addressing her.

"T…Tear it…." Came her instructors' voice.

"My soul now belongs to you for releasing my bonds, and I bring you one warning," Fenrir continued. The girls eyes widened in disbelief. "Do not be fooled by the trickster king."

"Tear the paper!" Noihaus screamed in horror, making a move to cross the room towards the girl.

Fenrir growled once more and bore his fangs, swiftly turning to lunge at the man. The girl scrambled to grab the strip of paper, and in one rapid motion, tore it in three, just as Fenrir's great jaws were around her instructor. He vanished into dark sand that covered the floor like a desert of ash.


	11. Chapter 11, An Invitation

Chapter 11. An Invitation.

 _Warning: Language_

The next morning a letter was placed just on the inside of the girls' doorway, as if it was slid under the door. It had the same sticker on the back as the one left on her bed the first day of school, so she figured it must have been from headmaster Faust. Setting it down on the counter, she decided to wait on reading it and instead made breakfast first. She ate in silence, staring at the cream envelope as if it contained the worst news imaginable – especially after the events that had happened with Faust, and then the demon wolf. She wondered if the letter would have orders for her to pack her belongings and vacate the University.

She stared out the window, prolonging finishing her meal as long as she could, brooding on the worst possible outcome.

After cleaning the dishes and loading them into the small dishwasher, she finally had gathered up enough courage to read the letter. She picked it up and sluggishly went to the comfy chair in the corner of the room, and sat. She waited for a bit, tapping the envelope onto her knee, before peeling the fold open and reluctantly pulling the piece of parchment out. Scanning the letter, she soon realized that it wasn't a notice to leave the premises, but instead, and invitation to a 'celebration of each pages' newfound talents.'

A bit astounded, she wasn't quite sure what to think. Thoughts flashed through her mind of the last time she had seen the headmaster; usually he made an appearance somewhere about every other day, but she had yet to see him for what seemed like weeks. She had already deliberated whether she had upset him by denying him, but now he was inviting her out to some sort of party? She was in disbelief, unsure of what to expect, or how to even act.

Speculating the legitimacy of the invitation, and Faust's intentions, she pulled her cell phone from her pocket and dialed Rin.

"Yo?" he answered casually.

"Rin, it's me."

"Oh, hey! What's up?" He sounded rather ecstatic.

She toyed with the note in her hand. "I was just wondering – did you guys get an invitation from Faust this morning? It looks like someone slipped it under my door."

"Hold on just a sec, lemme look—" There was some commotion over the line that sounded as if Win tripped and crashed into something. "Yukio!" he called, talking far away from the speaker. "Did Mephisto give us an invitation to something? He did?" There came some rattling, and then he was back. "Yeah, it's right here! I guess he's invited us all out or something, huh?"

"I guess," she spoke softly, replaying what Rin had said while speaking to his brother. Mephisto.

"Are you going to go?"

She hesitated.

"Come on," Rin prodded. "It will be fun, all of us hanging out and getting our mind off of school!"

"I'm just not sure – I'm not feeling super well," she stammered. "Yeah, we'll see. I'll text you, okay? Bye."

"Well I mean, I could come cook you up something to eat if you'd—" she pressed the end call button before Rin could finish. It may have been harsh, but there were just too many things happening lately and her mind was completely out of sorts. She wasn't doing well in her classes, she probably needed to get a job in the city to earn some extra spending cash other than the allowance the University supplied in its scholarship, the headmaster had made a pass at her, she managed to summon a huge demon, she had actually seen the demon plain as day, said demon almost killed her whole class – she had almost just accepted that she was about to get kicked out of school. Processing everything was proving to be a daunting task for the girl, while she was still studying extra hard to stay current in all her university and cram school classes.

 _How the fuck am I supposed to handle going to a party right now?_ She asked internally, heading to the bathroom. She stopped and looked into her reflection. "How the fuck are you supposed to handle seeing him again, for Christ's sake?"

Desperate for some advice, the girl un-enthusiastically searched through her call log to find her mothers' name. Her thumb hovered above the call button, as if she were deciding which wire to cut on a bomb. Finally, she pushed it.

In the time that it took for the phone to ring and ring, the uncertainty in her belly had decided it would be satisfied if her mother didn't answer at all. Like she needed to talk to her about anything, she scoffed to herself; she was just being a little girl, running to her mommy for help.

Then, the ringing stopped.

"How's my beautiful daughter!" came her mothers' overly sticky sweet voice that she used for appearances.

"I'm fine mom," she sighed.

Her mother of course wanted to almost completely exhaust the topics of school – again – how the girls' grades were – again – how she liked it – again. Every once in a while her mother would go off on some tangent about what she had been up to that day, the 'crazy' story of what had happened to her at the super market on Wednesday, or was it Tuesday? No, it was Wednesday. And then she'd get right back to her daughters' school and social life. The girl couldn't help but pace her dorm room throughout the conversation, back and forth, fidgeting with things from her bathroom, the dishes, hanging clothes in her wardrobe, plopping onto her bed, getting up from the bed, picking up pens from her desk and doodling on a notepad, and so on.

"So, what are you calling me for?" her mother finally asked after over 20 minutes on the line. "I don't often get two calls from you so close together. Did something happen with that boy? What was his name?"

She almost burst at the seams. "Oh god mom, no; and he's not some boy. There's nothing going on between us either!"

"Well, clearly there is," she spoke in a way that allured she had her nose in the air. "I can hear it in your voice. I haven't been your mother this many years to not recognize when something's up," she chuckled.

And she was right.

"Well, we're not like, an item, or anything," the girl mocked.

"But you would like that?" She could hear the excited smile on the other end of the line as her mother spoke.

"I wouldn't say that at all," she chortled. "He's definitely very charming. And seems to have made his interests…apparent, I guess. I actually don't know how to feel about it all."

"Oooh. Well, is he handsome?" her mother pushed.

The girls mind instantly took her right back to the day in the woods, where they walked together, laughed, and bore just tiny fragments of their souls. The image of his green eyes that could look through to her very core was burned into her skull; lately, it seemed the picture of how his violet hair framed his sculpted face was never far from her thoughts. "Well, I mean, I guess you could say that," she stuttered, trying to hide her embarrassment as she imagined her headmaster in his pinstriped suit once again. There was no reply on the other line, and the girl could already see the look on her mothers' face when she knew there was more to be said. "Okay, yeah, he's pretty handsome alright?" she groaned.

"I knew it!" she squealed loud enough to cause the girl to hold her phone away from her ear. "So, this boy likes you too then, right?"

Throwing herself onto her bed, she shoved her face into a pillow. "Moooom," she wined. "For the last time, he's not just some 'boy!' He owns the goddamn school!"

She gasped loudly. "So, he's rich then?!"

The girl felt like ripping her hair out. "I don't know, I guess," she said with a tinge of attitude. "He practically owns the whole town or something, I'm not sure, but I imagine he's got some money."

"So, he's handsome, he's rich, he said he chose your dorm specifically, he comes to see you all the time, he's flirted with you—"

"Maybe! I don't know!" the girl cut her mother off, doubting everything in the midst of such a stressful and embarrassing conversation.

"He likes you, trust me; men don't go out of their way for girls they don't like sweetie," she said in her matter-of-fact tone. The girl couldn't help but to roll her eyes at the words coming from someone who was never out in the real world besides for shopping. "What's the problem, then?"

Well…" she paused, glancing out to the note left on the dining table. "He kind of invited us all out. To a bar. Tonight." She gasped to hear the words come out of her own mouth. "I don't know what to do; what should I wear? Should I even go?"

There came another squeal. At this point in her life, the girl was pretty sure her mother was living through her vicariously. And it was about time, since she had kept her daughter cooped up for so many years. Being away from home, staying at the University in the dorms, was the first break the girl had ever received from her mothers' clutches. "Wear something hot, and snag him, honey!"

"And what if I don't want to 'snag' him, mom?" she retorted, a condescending sarcasm thick in her voice.

A sweet laugh came through from the other side, followed by a sigh; the girl envisioned her mother shaking her head at her. "Oh honey, you just go and have fun tonight. Put on a man-killer outfit, and don't worry about a thing. Do your mom a favor and snap a photo in secret for me!" she giggled, and then hung up.

A little mortified, the girls' mind raced faster than lightning. Have fun. Let loose. Not something she was completely accustomed too. She had only gone to small friend gatherings before in her hometown and neighboring towns, and it was only occasionally. To be honest with herself, she admitted that she was nervous, but then she talked herself up some. It wasn't a big deal; it was just another group of friends getting together over drinks. That wasn't so bad. A bar, well, that wasn't completely foreign. The head administrator would be there, but he was like a friend of sorts. What could go wrong? Nothing, she assured herself. It would be okay. She liked to think of herself as a rather strong independent woman who had little to fear.

Her mind flashed a series of awkwardly painful images of what could happen upon seeing Johann for the first time since their last walk, and her nerves got the best of her. She was nearly about to throw in the towel and decide not to go, when her phone vibrated.

It was a text notification. She eyed the contact from afar, only to see it was from Shiemi. Opening it, it read: 'Just got a text from Yuki. Tonight should be fun! I'm scared but I want to go. You're going right?'

Well damnit, she thought. If Shiemi wasn't such a nervous wreck all of the time, and wasn't so determined to break out of her shell, the girl figured she'd have less inclination to go. But since she did in fact care for the blonde girl, and she knew how big of a hurdle deciding to go was for her, the girl decided to put her own anxieties to rest just for the night so she could be there to support Moriyama. Maybe, she thought, she would get a kick out of trying to push Shiemi and Yukio closer to one another and watch Rin's reaction – that might give her mind something to do besides getting tense.

'Looks like it's on,' she texted Rin.


	12. Chapter 12, Clubbing

Chapter 12. Clubbing.

 _Warning: Language_

The place of the so-called celebration was a small club in one of the urban entertainment districts of True Cross Town, not too far from the contradictory high-class red light district, where the rich men would visit at least once while attending University. There were a few other bars and clubs in the district, and many students would go dancing and bar hopping on the weekends. The whole boulevard was lit with neon lights in every color of the rainbow, and different songs echoed from each establishment into the streets; the sidewalks were full as people spilled in and out of every door.

Surely this couldn't have been the correct location, the girl thought as she arrived; there was no way in her mind that the headmaster would invite his students out to a place like that. She double checked the address on the invitation and compared it to what she had typed into her phones GPS, only to be horrified that it was the same.

The club she stood in front of was the loudest, most crowded, and probably the most colorful one on the whole block, with blue and violet lights illuminating the pavement each time the doors swung open. Dreading entering for a multitude of reasons, the girl tugged at the bottom of her short dress, and attempted to check her hand at make up with her cell phone camera as a way to stall time. It may not have been a weekend, but everything was packed as the sky began to grow dark. A group of people walked over and entered the club, the music only becoming louder when the door opened.

Hearing her name being called, she nearly shrank into her shoes; three classmates from University had been sitting outside of the building, having a smoke. They motioned her over, readying themselves to go inside. "I didn't know you came here!" one of the two girls called.

The girls' shoes tapped on the cold, dark pavement like a crude metronome. "Oh, I've never been here. I'm meeting some friends," she responded nervously.

"Right on, right on," the guy said, bobbing his head and looking her up and down. "Well, come by and grab a drink with us while you're here, yeah?"

"Yeah, don't be shy!" one of the other girls yelled louder than necessary, already a bit sloshed.

She tried to negate the offer casually. The girl who had called out her name took a long drag from her cigarette as she stared her down. "Seriously, this is the first time we've ever seen you out anywhere. Come have a drink with us while you're here!" She rubbed her cigarette onto the building and tossed it into the large ash-trays, and scooped the girls' arm into her own, locking elbows and leading her into the nightclub. "You look killer, by the way!" she said loudly as the doors opened.

They were hit with a rush of music, clanking, laughing—she could barely hear her classmates talking to her any longer. People were dancing all over. Some girls were hanging all over a few of the obviously wealthy men, sitting on their laps or leaning over on them to hand feeding him the expensive food offered at the club. It always amazed the girl what some people would do, for something as trivial as free drinks.

After waving to her classmates, she pushed through the crowd of energetic patrons, trying to locate her friends from cram school while keeping others from bumping into her and spilling their drinks all over in the process. Suddenly, she felt hands grab her shoulders and she nearly jumped out of her skin with a massive yelp. Turning, she was met with Rin's eager beam. "You scared the shit out of me!" she huffed.

"What?!" he yelled, turning his pointed ear towards her more. She leaned in closer to him, repeating herself a little louder. He laughed and then spoke back into her ear. "My bad! I'm glad you're here though. Let's go grab a drink!" She nodded in response. Placing a hand on the small of her back, he helped her maneuver to one of the walls where a large bar with a crystal purple lighted counter-top was placed. She hopped up onto one of the tall stools and adjusted her dress hem, hooking her heels onto the foot rest.

"Is anyone else here?" she asked, leaning into Rin.

"Yeah, we have a booth. I saw you come in so I came to get you."

Raising a brow and squinting, she chuckled. Saw her walked in, she thought; how could he have seen her walk in? She had barely made it very far, and there were people all around and so much commotion there was no way he could have just spotted her right away, she reasoned.

"Do you know what you want?" she nodded and blurted out her favorite go-to drink; simple, and a little fruity. She wasn't well accustomed to all the many different mixed drinks that you could order, and never wanted to make it apparent how inexperienced she was.

Leaning over the counter, which had begun to change colors from a deep purple to a violet pink, he talked to a bartender who was crouched down, cleaning and organizing under the bar. Rin waited for a moment, but got no response. "Hellooo?" he droned loudly, leaning back over the bar. "We're ready to order, dude," he said, poking the bartenders head.

And as dramatic as possible, the bartender jumped into the air and onto his feet, pulling out a towel and tossing it above him, revealing himself as headmaster Faust. Rin's jaw dropped to the floor, and the girl nearly passed out from sheer shock.

"Well, hello there! Finally decided to join us, have we?" Johann exclaimed, rubbing the inside of a glass with a dish towel.

"W-what the hell are you doing here?!" Rin screeched.

"I'm just having some fun interacting with students and listening in on conversations," he answered, beaming. He turned his attention to the girl, leaning over the counter slightly. "Glad you decided to make it. I was worried you might not come this evening."

She could feel her face turning warm as his eyes were on her. "Rin actually talked me into it."

Johann's sharp eyes shot over to Rin, lips twisting into a half smile. "Did he now? How lovely." He stood straight up. "Let me make you your drinks – on the house!"

Rin glared. "I was going to get it."

"Nonsense my boy!" he exclaimed while turning his back to the two. He mixed their drinks, only to set a very large one in front of the girl. Leaning over the counter toward Rin as he passed him his drink, he spoke into the ear on the side opposite of the girl. "You can pay for yours if you'd like," the administrators voice wrapped around the boys ear like a snake.

Rin steamed beneath his skin. "Let's go. The group's waiting for us." A little surprised at Rin's change in demeanor, the girl got to her feet and prepared herself to push their way through the crowd once more.

Sir Faust then pulled the apron off over his head and hopped up over the counter-top, landing between the two. Instead of his normal extravagant outfits, he was wearing his normal lavender gloves, and a dark dress shirt, unbuttoned at the top to where his collar bones were exposed. He placed his arms over both of their shoulders and smiled deviously, exposing his sharp canines. "Shall we?" he sneered. As if he had known where the group was sitting, Johann drug the two students along to the very back corner of the club to a C-shaped booth. Most of the cram school students were there, including Yukio sitting next to a tomato red Shiemi, sitting around a table. Everyone greeted the approaching trio by either hollering or waving.

The girl smirked as she eyed Yukio and Shiemi, and she quickly shoved Rin into the booth next to the shy blonde girl, and then plopped down next to him so he couldn't escape. How fun would this be, she snickered to herself, already imagining Rin struggling to keep his composure. Johann sat across from the girl at the other end of the large seat, his eyes never straying too far from her for too long.

Rin was quiet as the group talked and the two girls on each of his sides leaned over his lap in order to talk to one another. His mind was elsewhere, torn between blushing from his predicament to being irritated by the two men at either ends – his own brother, and his headmaster.


	13. Chapter 13, Trust Fall

Chapter 13. Trust Fall.

 _Warning: Language & Mildly suggestive content_

The group had gone through quite a few drinks each during the hours of talking and laughing. Konekomaru hadn't had anything to drink besides a glass of water, and left early so he could get more study time in and get a good night's rest. Faust promised to personally excuse everyone from their classes the next day if they had chosen to stay; it seemed his idea of a celebration was to get everyone to relax and enjoy themselves for a bit instead of stressing over University and cram school. It was nice for everyone to relax and have a little fun. Drinks and shots were regularly brought to the table for everyone, most likely on the chancellor's orders, which he took very little of for himself.

Izumo was being her usual abrasive self, even despite having a few drinks in her, which Shima had put on his tab. He kept badgering her, trying to get her to go dance with him; she'd refuse, and he'd order her another drink before trying again. Rin decided he'd Shiemi why she wasn't going to dance, grinning childishly. Shiemi gasped loudly, turning red, explaining how she could never do such a thing. They all knew that. Her being there was a huge improvement for the social anxiety that she obviously faced. Yukio patted Shiemi on the head reassuringly while his nose was glued to his phone; the blonde girls phone buzzed with a notification, which she read, and then began typing. The girl had noticed the two of them were most likely texting back and forth for a while, despite being right next to each other and couldn't help but to find it adorable. Also taking notice, Rin furrowed his brow, grumbling, before turning to the girl on his left.

"What about you? Why aren't you out there?" he raised his eyebrows jokingly at her.

She almost snorted from laughing so hard. The room spun around her in slow motion, lights flashing like watching the sun rise and fall. "I haven't had enough to drink for that," she said, taking another sip.

Yet again, Shima began to pester Izumo about getting up and doing something, which she quickly put down and began telling him off, saying how she saw right through his ploy of trying to get her drunk enough to say yes, and she wasn't going to fall for it. The two began arguing, until finally Izumo made a move; Faust stood up from blocking the end of the booth, letting her out, and Shima followed. The two bickered some more just out of earshot, and finally Izumo stormed off into the horde of people. Shima took a moment to himself before coming back to the table. He kept his eyes on all of the people in the club as he snatched a shot from the groups' table, threw it back and slammed the glass down, and then slinked off into the crowd. When he went out of sight, Suguro, who had gone back and forth from being intensely talkative to extremely quiet the whole night, motioned to Faust that he was going to get up as well, and then he went off into the crowd; everyone figured he was probably looking for Shima to bring him back to his senses—everyone knew Shima was most likely on the prowl for a rebound.

The table fell quiet for a while.

Tossing back the rest of her drink, the girl decided to break the silence. "I'm going to go pee, and when I get back, this better be less awkward," she ordered loudly, holding her index fingers up and laughing when she noticed how silly her painted black nails looked on her. She stood up onto her wobbly stilts, using the edge of the table as a crutch until she gained enough balance to start walking towards the very back. Faust eyed her attentively, studying her bare legs and how the clingy dress accentuated her curves as she passed him. He toyed his goatee until her figure was out of sight. Turning back to the table, his eyes met with Rin's fiery blue gaze; he had a disapproving scowl on his face with his arms crossed tight across his chest.

Johann challenged the boy with elevated a brow and smirk.

"Umm…Is she going to be okay alone?" Shiemi questioned in an unsure tone. Yukio and Rin turned to her as if they hadn't even thought of that. It was true that the girl had stumbled down the hall, obviously quite intoxicated, but it was possible that they, like their headmaster, were too distracted by the sight of the girl walking away to even consider her potential safety.

Before Rin could even make a move, Faust had grabbed his drink from the table and was gliding down the hall towards the bathrooms. The boy watched closely, moving around when someone blocked his view, to the point where he had to kneel on top of the seat in order to keep his eyes fixated on his cunning headmaster. The bathroom door opened, and he saw the girl staggered out, only to be greeted by an encroaching Faust; she backed up against the wall and smiled as he moved in closer. Faust held something out for her, and then placed his hand up against the wall, blocking Rin's view of their interactions.

"What is it?" she asked with a smile, looking down at the capsule in her palm.

"Just something to take the edge off," he said with a sly smile. Her hazy eyes locked with his, and they stood in silence for a bit, the intensity between them thick enough to cut with a knife. She pursed her lips and drew in a sharp breath as his green orbs wandered down, grazing over her body once more. As he looked back into her eyes, he brought his other hand up, which held his drink. "Do you trust me?"

A mischievous smile spread across her lips. She might not have been thinking clearly—in fact, she knew she probably wasn't thinking clearly, but she didn't care. Everything was in slow motion, yet happening so fast. Keeping eye contact, she placed the capsule between her teeth seductively, and watched him scan her lips with a yearning in his eye; she quickly pulled the capsule into her mouth with a flick of her tongue, lingering on her teeth for a moment, and reveled at the sight of him biting his lip ever so slightly. Giggling, she snatched the glass from his hand and finished off the drink.

It wasn't long after returning to the table and being confronted with Rin's burning glare firmly locked on Faust that she began to notice a change in the atmosphere around her. The glow of the club intensified; colors became more vibrant than she had previously noticed. When she had seen just an indigo blue before, she began to see all the different colors that made up indigo—a dark blue swirled heavily with cobalt, and a tinge of violet. As the colored lights in the club changed, she continued to see a wider range of hues than when she first entered. The music that bounced through the building moved through her body like it had never done before, and she found herself closing her eyes and weaving to the beat in the smooth vinyl booth.

Yukio gave a strange look to his brother as they were all talking, drawing Rin's attention to the girl in her own universe beside him. Rin eyed her a bit, studying her dramatic transformation and realized how she had changed once the headmaster had met her in the back hall. His eyes spun to Faust, who sat at the edge of the booth, leaning back in a cool, relaxed manner, green eyes fixated on the girl before him. One side of his mouth was pulled back into the slight hint of a smirk.

It was then that the three University students who had come in with the girl darted up to the table with more shots in their hands. Ignoring the rest of the group, the two girls excitedly demanded that the girl take a few with them—to which she happily accepted their offer by jumping to her feet eagerly. They all tossed back a few in between obnoxious talking and laughing, and as they were coming to the last one, the song changed, and the two girls' faces brightened with excitement. "Oh my god," they exclaimed. "We love this song! Come dance with us!" they pleaded, pulling on the girls arm.

In her current state of mind, everything was incredibly wonderful and thoughts of insecurities or anxieties or any bashfulness was completely obliterated into the deepest parts of her psyche. Everything seemed like bright rainbows, magic unicorns, and fluffy rainbows—and dancing with two girls whom she had merely regarded as acquaintances earlier in the night sounded like just the sort of fun she was up for. Laughing, she quickly agreed before leaning over the table and taking her last shot, then she was drug off onto the dancefloor by the women.

"What the fuck was that?" Rin mumbled to himself, turning around to watch the girl cautiously, who was moving to the sounds of the music as if she had no care in the world.

"She has so much confidence!" Shiemi spat, blushing vibrantly.

Rin furrowed his brow. "I didn't know she could move like that," he said, eyes locked onto the girl as she twirled and curled to the melody along with her classmates, running her hands through her long hair. He couldn't help but to watch her as she moved; there was something enticing about the way her dress revealed her shoulders and back as she swung her hips.

After dancing for a bit, she opened her eyes and peered over to the booth, arms falling down around her face. Yukio was keeping his eyes low, trying not to seem interested, as Shiemi watched with a pink admiration across her cheeks. The girl smiled deviously as she looked over Rin, who turned red and shrank back down into the booth. Her eyes then locked with Faust. He was still seated at the end of the booth, back to the wall, facing the dancefloor. An arm was outstretched over the back of the seats and his leg was crossed casually. He swirled the glass of liquor in his hand while his powerful stare followed the moves of her form under low lids, taking pleasure in the electricity of her actions.

The whole club seemed to watch as her and one of the other girls drew close and began dancing rather provokingly, winding their figures with one another, hands running along their curves; but the girls' eyes stayed on her headmaster, her body longing to see the subtle changes on his face. She could nearly feel his hands on her from the look in his eye.


	14. Chapter 14, Cat and Mouse

Chapter 14. Cat and Mouse.

 _Warning: Language & Suggestive Content_

It was nearing closing by the time the girl was beginning to get worn out. She stumbled back over to the table, still swaying to the tune of the song playing, giggling with her newfound friends that she would most likely never have much interaction with after that night. She gave the two girls a hug and a kiss on the cheek before plopping down into the seat with an exhausted heave, a content smile upon her face. Noticing that Shiemi and Yukio were standing, she was brought out of her own little world momentarily, finally questioning what was going on.

Shiemi yawned and stretched. "I'm pretty tired, I need to turn in," she said, smiling sweetly. "Yuki has said he'll walk me home."

A smile curled on the girl's lips. "Let me know how it goes," she responded with a wink. "I suppose I should get going too." She stood back up, her body vibrating as the room rolled around her.

Rin jumped up next to the girl. "I could walk you home," he beamed.

"Nonsense," came Faust, setting his glass onto the table with a clink. "You need to go close out your tab. I'll make sure this little flower gets home safely," he said as he stood, sneering down at Rin.

"What the hell, what about your tab?!" Rin asked angrily.

"Already taken care of, my boy," he retorted as he walked by, eyes growing darker. He extended an elbow out for the girl, which she smiled at and took eagerly into her hands with a hiccup. Rins eyes flashed back at Faust's before he steamed off towards the counter.

After saying their farewells outside of the door, the group dispersed. There weren't very many people on the districts' main boulevard anymore, as most of the patrons were leaving early for the night to try to get up in a timely manner and make it to classes the next day. The girl was blissfully unaware of whether or not they were walking the correct direction as Faust led her down the street; she only remembered being a little confused when they turned a corner and headed into an alley way, nearly black from the lack of lights. She closed her eyes and rested her head against his shoulder, trusting him to take her home. After reaching the dark alley, she recalled him quietly say something in another language, but she was too tired to even open her eyes.

She was unsure how much time had passed from the alley to when she heard his sultry tone say, "We're here." Lifting her head and opening her heavy lids, she was surprised to see that they were already at the top of her dormitory building, in front of her door. She couldn't recall walking very far, or going up the elevator, but she figured she must have dozed off and went into a drunken autopilot as they walked. Rubbing her eyes, she pulled a key from her purse, only to have a light purple hand take the key away and open the door for her. He helped her inside without speaking a word, and closed the door behind them. The girl didn't take a moment to hesitate; stumbling tiredly, she dropped her purse to the floor and kicked off her heels as she muddled across the floor. As she slipped her jacket off while moving to the bedroom, his eyes followed it down over her slender shoulders, to her smooth bare back and hourglass waist, down to her sculpted bottom and willowy legs. Once she disappeared behind the partition to her room, he stopped in his tracks, for once unsure of his next move.

After a minute, the girl appeared again, her back facing him. "Can you help me with this?" she asked, pulling her hair to the side. She pointed to one of the zippers on each side of the nude mesh on the back of the dress. His feet moved across the carpet willingly before she had finished speaking, and as she felt his presence come closer behind her, she couldn't help but to smile to herself. Grazing his fingers across the tops of her shoulders towards her neck, they found their way to the zippers. Slowly he began to unzip her, exposing her true skin which he marveled at in the dim light of the moon, coming through the windows. As the dress spread out to the tips of her shoulders the farther down he went, he began to trace the divot of her spine with a finger. Closing her eyes, she rocked her head back, burying the face that was so close within her hair.

Reaching the small of her back, he looked down as he knew he was approaching the end of the zipper, and caught a glimpse of black lace. Not quite what he was expecting from her, he was rather curious. Hearing a heavy sigh come from her sent his mind down almost to the point of no return; he began running his hand along the sweet, soft skin before him until he has back up at her shoulders, and slowly pulled the dress down her arms until they were free. Burying his face in her neck, he returned his hands to her waist and squeezed lightly before moving down her hips, slipping his fingers under the dress and pushing it as he moved down along her curves.

It was then that the girl gathered the dress, pressed it to her chest, and turned around to face him with a crafty expression. "Thanks!" she said before darting back off towards her wardrobe.

Eyes a little wide from being so caught off guard, he began to chuckle lowly, catching on. He stepped into the room and leaned a shoulder against the wall, watching her slide her dress down her hips and hang it in the massive wooden wardrobe. The silver moonlight peeked through the window and caressed her skin. He studied every curve of her body as she tossed a tank top over her head and squeezed a pair of shorts up over her rump.

Turning around to face him, she sucked in her cheek, eyeing him skeptically. "Want a drink?" she smacked, walking back out to the living area of the dorm; he trailed behind, unable to keep his eyes off of her. Her legs were still wobbly as she walked, and she had to continue to steady herself. Opening the fridge, she bent down to grab a couple of the beers she kept for rainy days, exposing the fold of skin at the top of her thighs in the process before heading back to her headmaster. She slowed her pace as she passed him, giving her enough time to run her fingernail along his collar bone. "I noticed you've been watching me all night," she said slyly, continuing to the bedroom.

He ached as he followed behind her, his eyes on the adorable puff of voluptuous flesh poking out beneath the hem of her shorts. "You're hard not to look at," he said, pulling his bottom lip under his fang. He was pleasantly surprised at how bold she had become, and realized that there must be more to the seemingly shy girl than he had originally thought.

She turned to face him in front of the bed, locking drawing his eyes up to her, and then proceeded to sit. Raising a brow, she lifted one of the beers held in her hands, and as he folded his hand over hers, she spoke: "You don't have to say sorry."

Dropping the closed bottle to the ground, he loomed over her and placed his hands on the comforter, on each side of her body. Caught off guard by the movement, she began to scoot back onto the large mattress, just as he wanted. "I'm not apologizing, dear," he spoke lowly, crawling up over the top of her, pushing her back onto the bed until he was completely over her.

"So, the whole inviting us out to the club thing—" she began with a sly tone. "What exactly was your plan there? Did you just want to see me and didn't know how to ask?" she teased, taking in his face, looking for answers.

"I merely wished to see you relax, and have a good time is all," he said in a heavy, thick tone, skimming his knee up along her inner thigh. "And it seems I have succeeded in that." Her body wiggled beneath him and tensed up when his knee went as far as it could go. She took in a deep, shaky breath as his thumb came into contact with her chin; he dragged his thumb along her elongating throat until he reached her collar bones. She was completely at his mercy, sprawled out over the bed with this devilish man hovering above her, waiting for whatever he was to do with her next.

Satisfied with the shift in control, Johann stroked her hair lightly. "Now, why don't you tell me how you managed to summon Fenrir?" He surveyed her expression of shock, pleased, before he continued. "I hear he has pledged himself to you without a binding contract."

Her mind began whirring, trying it's best to remember that day in class through the fog which shrouded her. At first, she was confused about how he had even heard about that—but then she remembered he was the chancellor of the school, and thus probably knew almost everything that happened in it. "I..I don't know," she sputtered. "I just said the first thing that came to mind. And then he appeared. I didn't even think I would be able to summon anything."

His eyes shifted back and forth between her two, wide orbs, searching for a falter. "So you've never summoned him before? Never spoken with him before?"

"No!" she raised her voice, fear showing through her eyes as her mind had finally grasped onto the memory of that day, and replayed it with more emphasis being placed on her emotions at the time. Stroking her cheek lightly, his eyes softened as he shushed her to calm her down, knowing that her mind was out of sorts and he didn't want her to begin hallucinating. She quickly relaxed, returning back to the dimly lit room, falling back into the green eyes that hung above her.

A buzzing from the end table abruptly interrupted their gaze, and the girl wormed her way out from underneath of his grasp to grab her cell phone. A text from Rin popped up: 'Make it home okay?' She giggled, replied, and set her phone back down on the table before flopping back onto the bed. Johann rested on his side, propping his head up with his arm, a look of discontent plastered upon his face. It was then that something popped into her muddled brain.

"Mephisto," she cracked, letting the word roll off of her tongue as if she was testing out a new flavor. Johann's eyes expanded in disbelief as he heard what she said. The two looked at each other for a while, and once she realized he was not going to say anything, she continued. "I heard them call you Mephisto. Why?"

Trying to come up with a proper response, he relaxed in knowing that she was rather faded to begin with, and hoped she wouldn't remember most of the night anyways. "I have many names, little flower," he said with a chuckle, pulling himself over to the girl. He lay on his belly and examined her confused, beautiful face, wondering where she had heard that name from. She was smart. Perhaps there was even more to her than she let on; she was growing more interesting by the second—and sleepy. Her eyes bobbed, trying to stay open under heavy lids.

He slid his glove off of his hand and placed it lightly onto her cheek, feeling the warmth of her smooth skin on his own for the first time. A little sigh came from her as her eyes fluttered. Leaning in, he placed a soft kiss upon her forehead before making his departure.

As he sauntered down the hall replaying the events of the night, he was aware that he was not alone; a green head appeared and floated around him, the body upside down. "So, did you lay claim to your precious human, brother?" Amaimon questioned plainly.

"And spoil the fun so soon?" Mephisto chuckled. "No, brother—I'm afraid the game is just beginning with this one."

(Author: AND THE PLOT THICKENS - DUN DUN DUN! Who exactly was the cat, and who was the mouse on this night? I have a sneaking suspicion that Mephy found the exchange to be rather stimulating in more than one way.)


	15. Chapter 15, From Defense to Offense

Chapter 15. From Defense to Offense.

(Author Note: Edited 7/15/16 - I felt it was necessary to the story to add in more interaction with Mephisto.)

 _Warning: Language_

The room was fuzzy when she cracked open her lids, head pounding hard enough to knock her eyes out from her sockets. Her mouth was as dry as a desert; she fought a great battle to pull her chapped lips apart from one another, and to detach her tongue from the roof of her sticky mouth. Groaning, she suddenly detested the layout of the room – why was the bathroom all the way on the other side? Her bladder was full from the night before, but moving her legs of jello quickly became apparently impossible. Cloudy vision faded in and out to black routinely throughout the morning.

A light knock woke her once more. Her body felt like it had been struck by an eighteen-wheel truck as she attempted to lift her twenty-pound head from the confinements of the moist pillow it had been shoved into. "Come in," she grunted with a raspy voice, before plopping back into the linens. She didn't even think about whether or not her door would be unlocked or not; but the door creaked open quietly. The ringing in her ears changed pitches as it seemed the room was closing in around her, a change in the air which she barely noticed at the moment. The sounds of muffled footsteps approached bounced around in her skull like bombs. They paused by the bedside, as the figure took in the sight of the girl, face down and sprawled out on the bed with the covers strewn about in a way which appeared as a war zone, breathing slow and deep with a slight whistle.

Feeling something staring down upon her began to wake her more and more. She used her lashes as a sun visor to shield herself from the light coming in through the windows by barely opening her lids; just enough so she could see who had entered her room.

Faust stood with his arms crossed behind his back, hovering over the side of the bed with soft eyes, and a slight smile. Her heart surged for one beat, flipping her over and throwing her forward until she was sitting, peering up at her headmaster, head pounding as hard a construction crew next door at seven a.m. The man let out a soft titter as the girl winced, caressing her own throbbing head. "You didn't need to get up. I just came here to check on you after last night," he said as quietly as he could before breaking into a whisper. "How did you sleep, little flower?"

Sleep. Even just the word was trying to seduce her back into the sheets, to get comfy and rest the day away. A yawn erupted from her, which she covered with her hands as an uncontrollable stretch coursed through her muscles. "I feel like death," she muttered, smacking her lips together.

"I'm afraid I know death, and I can assure you this is far from it," he chuckled. She smiled and let out the beginning of a laugh with a hum, only to wince once more as the vibrations resonated within her. "Let me get you something for that."

Watching him move toward the kitchenette, the girl hurriedly flipped her drool-covered pillow over and wiped the smudged make-up out from under her eyes that made her look like a raccoon with mange, before he could turn around. He came back with a glass of cold water and a couple of pain pills, which she had in her cabinet. Sitting on the bed next to her, he held out the tablets, which she took in her hands eagerly, and then handed her the cold glass.

"Do you remember much from last night?"

Pitching the medication to the very back of her throat and taking in multiple gulps of the fresh water, she thought hard about the night before. Her memories were jumbled and scattered, and what she could piece together was hazy at best. "I don't remember much after going to the bathroom," she started, assuming the alcohol had hit her hard once she stood up. "How did I get here?"

He looked deeply into her sweet, innocent face, absorbing her dazed expressions as she tried to recall the events which had taken place. "I took it upon myself to make sure you returned safely," he said, putting a hand to her cheek. "I wouldn't let anything happen to such a pretty little flower."

Her ears grew instantaneously hot as his words entered them so casually. Tipping her chin down, she sucked on the remaining bit of water, attempting to hide how flushed her face had become while thinking on the previous evening with spotty, scarce memories that she wasn't sure was true in nature, pure fiction, or truth laced in fantasy.

He admired the sight before with sharp pupils before standing to his feet. "As a man of my word, I have taken the initiative of pardoning you from your classes today, cram classes included," he spoke as he glided across the plush carpet. "That being said, you may want to see what that teacher of yours is up to," he said, giving her a sly look over his shoulder, while his hand rested on the doorknob.

A chime came from her phone on the nightstand.

"Speak of the devil," came Faust's low chuckle before he left.

Reaching her heavy hand over to grab the cellphone, her pupils sluggishly browsed over the text from Yukio. 'Class is cancelled today. Please come see me ASAP. I want to go over some things with you.' The time finally caught her eye: It was well past noon.

Groaning, she got out of her bed and stumbled to the bathroom, still unable to grasp how late she had slept in – she had missed a majority of her University classes already, and decided to take up the pardon from the headmaster and skip out on classes for the day. As she brushed her teeth, she sent her young teacher a message back to let him know she would be leaving as soon as she was finished getting ready, while her mind lethargically tried to wonder what was so important.

A bit later, she arrived at the meeting site – the training room inside the academy – and found Yukio waiting, cleaning his hand guns on the bench.

"Hey, Yukio," she said as she plopped her bag down onto the ground. He looked up and gave her a half smile. "What's going on?" She asked, peering over his shoulder at the three firearms he had sitting out.

"I want you to be able to defend yourself as best as possible," he spoke as frankly as possible while he loaded the magazines with strange bullets. "I've been teaching you ways to pick up on demons in the vicinity, and the best verses, chants, and spells for self-defense to the best of my knowledge, but unfortunately those are not my strong-suits. And one day or another, you'll need to be able to protect yourself by being on the offensive, as well." Slamming the magazine into the butt of the gun, he held it out for her to take.

She hadn't handled a gun since she was a child, back when the only father figure she had ever had in her life taught her how to shoot little BB guns and .22 rifles. After he left, she had no reason, nor any interest in firearms, and was reluctant to use the one Yukio was offering her. After a pause, she cautiously took the gun within her hand, holding it limply and away from her body. She wasn't scared of it; but the cold metal felt erroneous in her palm.

"You have to hold it like it's a part of you," he spoke, correcting her form by physically wrapping her fingers around the hilt, and lifting her arms up to support and aim correctly.

"It's heavy," she said with a grimace; she didn't remember firearms being so substantial when she was young.

"Yes, it is. Which is your dominant eye?"

"Like I have a fucking clue," she said brashly, not even attempting to hide her irritable mood. Closing one eye over the other, she continued this back and forth for a bit, trying to lock onto the target and see which eye was more focused. "Maybe my…left?"

He hummed. "Since you instinctively grabbed it with your right hand, it's easier to make your right eye more dominant than it is to make your left hand more dominant. You can practice at any time by closing your left eye and focusing in on anything at a distance."

"Cool. So then, you just—" she imitated a bang noise with her mouth.

Yukio chuckled humorlessly. "You need to learn how to accept it as an extension of your arm. Get used to the weight. Get used to holding it correctly—" he said with a snap as he adjusted her arms once again.

"Alright, alright, I got it!" the girl yapped, peering down the sights at the target, adjusting herself accordingly.

"Keep your stance wide. Wider. Core strong." He heard her grumble under her breath. "They're pretty powerful and have quite the recoil, but with proper training, you shouldn't be affected. Now, aim. Take a deep breath."

She drew in a deep breath once she honed in onto the red target across the room.

"Let your breath out, and pull the trigger," Yukio said, standing off to the side.

BANG.

The gun flew upwards into the air as it unloaded the bullet and sent it ripping through the air like lightning striking; the girl, startled by the noise and the kick from the gun, and lacking proper strength that day, was blown backwards so much that she nearly landed onto the ground. Ears ringing as if a landmine had just gone off, she scowled up at the young teacher. "What the hell, man!" she yelled louder than necessary.

"I told you to keep your feet wider and to tighten your core," he said, grabbing his two guns and heading to the other standing marker. Pushing a red button, the targets began to move rapidly and erratically around the wall. He took in a deep breath, and swiftly drew up his pistols and began shooting a flurry of bullets, never missing a single target or coming off balance. The girl watched, marveling at his skill.

Once the timer went off, the paper targets stopped, signaling the end to the training session. He holstered his two guns before turning back to the girl. "I want you to practice here with me for an hour, three times a week starting Monday," he ordered. She nodded her head in bewilderment. "Now, get back up on your feet and try again."

The girl did as the young professor ordered, practicing her shooting and aiming skills over the next couple of hours. She was able to land a few rather good shots, but most of her bullets missed the target paper altogether. Yukio kindly kept reminding her to think about her stance, her arms, her core, her breath, to steady her heartbeat, and to aim as best as she could – he would tell her after a series of missed shots, that practicing and training her dominant eye would help her accuracy over time. It was difficult; her body was virtually too fatigued to hold the gun straight for very long at a time, and she repeatedly had to sit down to recollect herself and get something to drink, but she tried as hard as her body would let her. After a while of assisting the girl's training, Yukio's demeanor gradually transformed to something much sterner.

At last, she girl finally took notice of her teacher-turned-friend. Letting the warm firearm hang along her side, she finally addressed the moody elephant in the room. "What's up, Yukio?"

"It's nothing," he assured her with a smile.

"It's definitely something." She sat on the bench next to him, leaning forward nonchalantly. "Seriously, what's up?"

He tightened his lips for a moment. "I hope I'm not out of line by asking this, so please don't take it the wrong way." She cocked her head, waiting for his question. "May I ask what the nature of yours and Sir Ph-Fausts' interactions are?" He knew all too well what kind of man director actually was, and that his true identity was something kept hidden from most of the subordinates, until they became entrusted within the True Cross Order. It didn't take him long to figure out that the headmaster had something planned for the girl beside him, but what exactly Faust's reasons were, he was never certain.

She nearly fell backwards from seat from laughing so hard. "Oh god, nothing! It's strictly friendly," she roared, wiping her eye. It was then that her mind, being jogged by the question, began sending flashes of the evening before. The drinking. His hungry green eyes on her all night. Was it really only friendly interactions? She wondered. All of her memory was very obscure and scattered about; she couldn't replay anything within succession, but she kept remembering a few words, Fenrir being quite prominent. Who brought up Fenrir? Why was he brought up, she thought to herself.

"Yukio – who is Fenrir, exactly?" she questioned, staring at the ground with a scowl on her face, thinking hard about the words the demon had spoken to her the day she managed to summon him.

He turned and looked at her, searching her face for a reason for such a question. He was quiet for a long while, trying to find the rights phrases for the right words, to say it just right without giving too much confidential information. Information he was sworn to secrecy. Once she turned to face him, he coughed to clear his throat.

"Fenrir, is a high class demon," he sputtered. "It is said that he was bound in chains by Odin and other demons long ago to contain his power." His voice trailed off a bit, unsure, before it returned. "He's the son of the shape-shifting demon-god, Loki." Inspecting one another's faces, Yukio's eyes softened with despair. "Be careful."


	16. Chapter 16, First Day

Chapter 16, First Day.

(Author Note: Previous chapter updated, this chapter inserted 7/15/16 - I felt it was necessary to the story to add in more interaction with Mephisto early on.)

The hustle and bustle of True Cross town was high on a typical, busy Saturday; people were taking advantage of the spring sun by getting out of the school and forgetting about classes or homework for at least one day during the week. Some walked down the main boulevard, stopping at a few of the posh shops, the gourmet cupcake bakery, and so on, while others made their way to the beach, or visited the art museum, or went to a casual concert in the park.

Days like this left the shops overcrowded, and understaffed, and as the weather headed deep into spring and neared summer, shop keeps only knew that the traffic would increase even more. It was this reason exactly that let the girl land a part time job at one of the corner cafés, a place where quiet intellectuals came to write on their laptops, and musicians came to practice in front of an audience. The food was good, the treats were great, and the drinks were off the wall – and fantastic to say the least. It was a little hole away from the world where she had frequented as an escape, curled up in a scarf, sipping peppermint cocoa, listening to the acoustic guitars and melodic voices lull her off into a dream land. She had been lucky enough to become acquainted with the manager and shop owner, a woman with blue hair and two nose rings on the same nostril, who was impressed with the drinks that the girl had come up with on her own, and so offered her a job as a waitress after school, and was happy to work around the girls' tutoring sessions.

And it was on one of these busy spring Saturdays that was the girl's first day working at the café, waiting tables, taking orders, making drinks, bussing tables, cleaning spills, taking back and remaking drinks that weren't good enough for some of the pretentious customers – but she did it all with a smile on her face and a determination in her heart. But perhaps that's how it usually is in the beginning of anything; the feeling is so new, that it gives one some sort of high as they feel like something is being accomplished in their life, despite all the crap that people will give the worker. Only for the high to eventually give way to despair and loathing once the negativity has taken it's toll, wearing and tearing upon the soul of those involved. She was no exception to this rule. But it was her first day, and nothing was more exciting for her than to put her all into something.

As the day rolled on into the early evening, and the foot traffic in the café gave way to musicians and regulars, who would stay seated for hours without needing much attention, she felt the same presence that she had always felt, time and time again. She was in the middle of putting an order in for a table, and when she turned to look, of course, as always, there was nothing there – just the dusky pink light from the sunset observing the on goings of the quiet little shop from afar.

"Table sixteen," the manager called, gesturing to the back of the shop as someone sat down.

The girl, swamped with getting the tasks done finally now that there were less customers to tend to, quickly set her things down and grabbed her pad and pen, scurrying through the small tables as she wrote down the table number on the paper. "What can I get you?" she asked, eyes still glued to the pad.

"Whatever you recommend," came a familiar voice.

Looking up from her notepad, she came face to face with Johann Faust, who was sitting in the back of the shop at the small corner table, legs crossed, elbow on the tabletop while his chin rested in his palm. His tired eyes smiled sweetly as he viewed her with esteem.

"Sir Faust!" she belted nervously, her hand bolting up to adjust her ponytail, hoping she didn't look like too much of a mess. The surroundings grew still and quiet all around them. "What are you doing here?!"

He glowed with adoration, taking in the sight of the girl as out of sorts as she was. He couldn't help but to think how delightful she looked in just a pair of jeans and a simple tee shirt, with a folded apron around her hips. Her hair might have been loose and messy from a hectic day, but it was a wonder to see her in such a state. "I heard you started working, so I thought I would come see you on your first day," he said with the look of a long day on his face.

Her cheeks lit like the fireplace in the center of the shop. "Well thank you, that's awfully kind of you," she muttered.

The slight warmth in his eye grew to a small smile as she blushed before him. Taking his arm off of the table, he took up the menu and looked it over. "I seem to be unable to decide what to order—" he closed the menu and looked back up at her. "What would you pick?"

"Oh! Uh," she stuttered, looking down at the menu in his hands, for some reason drawing a blank on the drinks they offered. "The Honey-Bear Latte, made with real honey, is just a bit sweet – otherwise we have a wide selection of chai teas and Frappe Shakes…there's the Marshmallow Pillow Latte which is pretty popular, or the Kicker Espresso, which has a pinch of cayenne—"

"Which one would you order, right now, if you could?" He asked, tilting his head to the side.

She was quiet for a moment as she stared him in his green, unwavering eyes. "The Caramella," she finally answered, with a sureness in her voice. It was a gourmet chocolate and caramel espresso, with milk and whipped cream - much more of a dessert than a coffee drink, but she didn't think he was going to judge her.

"Great. We'll have two of those. When are you off?"

She quickly glanced at the clock on the old brick wall, nerves bouncing around within her. "My shift is over pretty soon, why?"

"I was hoping to have that drink with you, and maybe listen to some of these aspiring artists who are getting ready for the night?" he motioned towards the musicians lining up in the back of the shop by the small stage, tuning their instruments or looking over lyrics while they hummed the tune. "Perhaps, since it's your first day, and I'm certain you did an excellent job, they'll let you go a tad early?" he asked, waving his hand upwards in a small circle. The girl huffed quietly as she looked behind her, uncertain, only to see her manager nod in approval. "Perfect!" he announced, bringing her attention right back to him. "Come have a seat with me."

Untying her apron, her cheeks became tinged with blush once again, and she sat down in the already pulled-out chair across from the director, and then tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "This is pretty unexpected – sorry I'm such a mess," she chuckled, trying to diminish her nerves with laughter.

"Nonsense, you look wonderful," he started, reaching into his jacket. "I got this for you, since it reminded me of you a bit." He pulled out a single white flower, in full bloom, somehow with only just a few bruises on the petals. It might not have been perfect, but it was beautiful nonetheless. She looked at the gesture with a sense of childlike wonder, and he motioned for her to come closer, breaking off the long stem. As she leaned over the minuscule table, he slowly tucked the loose strands of hair back in place behind her ear, and pinned it back with the flower.

(Author Note: The color white is associated with peaceful personalities, as well as innocence and purity.)


	17. Chapter 17, Training Camp

Chapter 17. Training Camp.

The girl groaned heavily while Izumo and Suguro argued. Why couldn't they ever get along, she questioned to herself, watching the two hot heads go back and forth.

It had been a couple weeks since her training with Yukio had started, and since then, they had started a training camp to prepare for the ExWire test – something she was very concerned about passing. She was roomed with Shiemi and Izumo for the duration of their stay, since Paku had quit the Cram school classes. The Okumura dormitory building had fallen prey to a ghoul attack on their first evening, inflicting a rather nasty wound on Paku, which, ultimately lead to her final decision in dropping out. It was probably for the best, she thought; an exorcist's life isn't one for the faint of heart. It was thanks to Shiemi's fast thinking that Paku would be fine, but since whatever had happened in that bath Izumo had been extremely off, and was picking fights more so than the usual. The girl couldn't count how many times she told Shiemi not to worry about trying to be Izumo's friend, but the sweet-hearted girl was in a world where no one would ever mindfully do anyone harm; and so she didn't listen.

It was Izumo's attitude and insensitivity that caused the fight with Suguro earlier that day, and the girl watched in agony as the young teacher placed a baryon upon each of the students' laps while giving them a lecture about working as a team. Yukio then informed everyone that he would be leaving to respond to an exorcist call, and instead of placing a baryon on the girl's lap, he told her that she needed to come with him. The class scoffed as she stood and collected her things; Izumo stared at her with a boorish expression as she exited the class behind Yukio.

"Where are we going?" she asked, trying to keep up with the unenthusiastic teacher.

"I have orders to escort you elsewhere on my way out."

She furrowed her brow, unfulfilled with his response. They walked through the halls and down the stair-well in silence, their footfalls echoing throughout the abandoned building. The air was thin with a chill, and once again she felt the sense of eyes upon her, however she shrugged it off the best that she could while trudging along behind a noiseless Yukio. As they entered the cafeteria, she was becoming more aware of the perceptions around her; the feeling of eyes and presences around was almost suffocating within the cold, open room.

Before she could question anything, Yukio stopped and began messing with his pistols. She watched intently before he looked over his shoulder.

"Wait here. I'm going to get something from the other room," he said sharply. Then, quietly: "Watch your back." He stepped through a heavy metal door, which closed with a loud clack.

The room fell silent once more; she briskly rubbed her upper arms with her hands to try to warm herself up as the air became increasingly colder. Unsure of how much time had passed, she looked at the clock above the cafeteria counter, only to realize that it had stopped working – she had no idea how long Yukio had been gone. Her heart began to race. Something was wrong.

Then, suddenly, the lights went off.

Backup generator lights flickered on unwillingly within the large common space, barely giving her enough light to see the outlines of the large tables and chairs. Her heartbeat grew heavier as the air became more still, and she could feel the adrenaline begin to pump within her veins.

Screams from upstairs sent her body into fight or flight mode. She dropped her bags and headed for the door that the teacher had exited from, pushing on it with all her might; but the door wouldn't budge. It was then that her body was hit with something foul; it was mostly a debilitating presence, but there was a slight odor to it. Something barely enough for her to make out, though it continued to grow stronger and stronger until one of the large industrial vents in the ceiling caved in and fell, spreading a lewd smell throughout the cafeteria.

A ghoul must be here, she thought, scanning the dimly lit area. She couldn't see anything. Tables slowly began to skid across the concrete floor as the creature regained its composure and was on the move. In a panic, she attempted once more to push the door in front of her open to no avail. The tables flew across the floor and into the walls like a shockwave headed straight towards her. Turning to run away, back into the labyrinth of hallways, she saw something shiny lying on the table next to the door – a pistol.

Her hand instantaneously grabbed the gun as her feet began flying, and down the halls she sprinted.

She had no way of knowing where the ghoul was in the dark except for the slight presence she felt behind her, and the thuds of the demon smacking into walls as she turned her corners sharply. She entered a hall with large windows – there was some outside light peeking into the corridor.

"The power is on out there?!" she cried, glancing behind her, only to see large black stain marks flooding across the floor, and claw marks making their way to her all across the floor and walls. This ghoul had to have been huge, she thought; it appeared to be taking up the whole hall.

Heart pounding out of her chest as she turned a corner and felt something move her hair behind her, she began chanting whatever verses and spells she knew by heart that could offer her any sort of protection, in hopes it might put up a barrier strong enough to protect her from a physical blow and allow her to keep her life even just a bit longer. She hoped someone would come to her aide soon, as she was beginning to lose her breath from running so hard; she could feel the malicious presence gaining on her, hungry for flesh.

Desperate and nearing exhaustion, she turned, running backwards as best as she could, and began unloading her clip into the demon in pursuit. The sounds of a high pitched howl and shrieking came after each shot must have landed. The dark, rotting carpet and claw marks ceased as the wails grew quieter and quieter. Slowing her stride, the girl investigated the scene to see if the demon might have been defeated, by trying her best to sense the presence. A large, seeping black mark slowly spread upon the floor in the spot where the demon stopped. The presence before her shank until it was barely anything, and her muscles relaxed along with it.

Suddenly, the black stains burst from the large spot and all over onto the floor, ceiling, and walls, spreading out over the large area and almost reaching her shoes. Gasping, the girl fell backwards, and a massive claw mark dug into the floor just inches away from her. Scrambling to her feet, she resumed sprinting as fast as she could, swiftly turning through whatever door was open, trying to throw the demon behind her off of her trail; but it hunted her with a vengeance, more powerful and aggressive than ever before.

She was out of verses and chants to rehearse, out of ammunition, and just about out of options. Tears began to well up in her eyes, blurring her vision as she darted through shadowy passageways and rooms and on to the next. "Oh god, don't let me die here…!" she shrieked. Fishing for the strips of summoning paper in her pocket, she screamed for help as loud as she could, only to muster up the minuscule squeak of a hoarse voice. Pulling out the papers, a few strips blew out of her hand and were consumed by the transparent mass behind her – the paper turned black midair, shriveled up, and fell to the ground.

And then, the beast bore down on her so firmly that she was flown into the next room, slamming up against the wall. The faint protective barrier around her faltered, and disappeared into the night as the demon slowed itself and rose above her, lights from the windows getting lost in the translucent body before her. She pulled her knees to her chest, tears spilling down her cheeks as she clutched onto her one and only summoning strip, and cracked for help once more at the top of her lungs.

And as if she were seeing it in slow motion, a windstorm began to ravage the room around her and the black spread out across the walls in the corner farthest away from where she sat. Her head pounded, her ears rang, and she gradually placed her hand upon the back of her head as the bushy black figure of Fenrir came into sight.

Growing limp, she fell to the floor, and gazed at the image of Fenrir in slow motion as he lunged and tore at something in the corner, his massive body barely fitting within the large commons room. Everything fell silent as she lay upon the cold ground, her heartbeat the only sound audible, and even it was falling quiet to her ears. As Fenrir's great jaws bore down repeatedly, weakening the demon, it began to show itself first as a hazy figure, until it was there, as clear as the summoned demon himself.

The large wolf sunk its mighty fangs into the third ghoul head and held on firmly; it thrashed against the walls repeatedly, spraying black wherever it touched, until it quieted into a slump as the girls vision began to go out.

Right before she lost consciousness, her eyes rolled and caught the glimpse of a pair of dark burgundy boots noiselessly walking along the concrete floors towards her.

And then nothing.


	18. Chapter 18, Tea for Two

Chapter 18. Tea for Two.

The bright, early morning sun peeked through the large window, kissing the soft skin on her cheeks to the color of amber. The girl stretched her arms out above her head, digging her hands into the plethora of down pillows that crested the top of the massive bed where she lay. As she slowly began to wake, enjoying relaxing with her eyes closed, she marveled at how comfortable her bed was, even more so than usual. The cheery summer weather warming the linens lulled her like a sweet temptress, and she curled up with the plush white comforters around her, determined not to get up. It seemed as if she was resting upon a cloud within the heavens, and it was not something she wished to leave.

The hours crept on and the sun danced across the room as she slumbered within the white, fluffy paradise. Faraway noises outside began to pull her from the relaxation and into the real world. Peeping a single, fluttering lid open, she took notice of the blankets – they were definitely not hers. Flopping an arm down onto the comforters to expose her face to the room about her, she sleepily examined her surroundings while rubbing a heavy sleep from her eyes with a yawn.

The room was spacious, with some sort of polished stone floor, like marble, reflected the light that came through the massive window on the opposite wall of the bed. The walls themselves were deep red in color, with dark rich wood paneling that was popular amongst the elites hundreds of years ago. Two sets of French doors were on the left and right – one, leading down into an expansive corridor, and one opening up to what she could see was a rather large bath clad in the same gleaming stone.

The approaching sounds of feet tapping on the tile from outside drew her attention to the hall, only to see a man in a black suit begin to walk past the open doors, lock eyes with her, and dart back off to where he had come from. She went back to examining her surrounds, gawking at the massive, plush bed she was on. The intricate headboard was like a piece of art, integrated into the woodwork of the walls, and sprouting from each corner were four large pillar posts adorned with more elaborate carving, finished with a linen canopy. Outside the sprawling window, from where she sat up on the mattress, she could only see the skyline, birds, and the tops of a few trees. The setting was peaceful; beautiful. Almost dream-like. She had never known such luxury before in her entire life.

Suddenly, there came a sound of footsteps very close to the door, and when she turned to look, she saw headmaster Faust by the doorframe, buttoning a white waistcoat while the ends of his pink cravat hung loosely down his chest.

"So, you're awake," he said as he entered the room. "I was beginning to worry about you."

She eyed him innocently as he walked around the bed to the off side, where she sat. "What happened?"

"You were attacked in the dormitories; do you remember?" He asked, resting his exposed wrist upon her forehead to assess her temperature.

She rubbed the sleep from her eye once more, wracking her brain over that night in the training camp. "It was some kind of demon. A ghoul? It appeared out of nowhere."

"Correct," he answered as he sat beside her, the down comforter puffing out around him. "However, it wasn't at random. I had the demon attack."

"Why?!" she winced as she raised her own voice.

"The Order was testing the page's abilities. There were multiple ghouls sent to attack the students to see how they would do in a combat situation," he said plainly, flipping the collar on his burgundy shirt up and taking the ends of his necktie within his gloved hands. "We were watching very closely, and treated the injured after the test was concluded. That was when I brought you here."

A feeling of dismay wrapped around her as he spoke. If they were testing the students, then they saw her fail, she thought. "Where are we, exactly?" she questioned.

Peering down at her from his peripherals while he knotted his pink necktie, he spoke coolly: "My mansion. You've been unconscious for a couple of days now. It seems you hit your head pretty hard."

Her gaze drifted down to her lap. "So, I didn't pass then?"

A silence fell between the two as he looked over her sweet, unfortunate expression. Finally the director stood to his feet and held out a lavender hand for the girl. She took his hand in hers, only to be pulled to her feet and into his arms. "I'm not supposed to tell you so soon, as I'm on my way to break it to the class - but it appears all of you have passed your exam, and are certified ExWire's from here on out," he said as he brought her chin up with his index finger.

Stunned by this news, it took her a few seconds to register exactly what her headmaster was telling her. She passed? "Why—how?!" she shouted, confusion and excitement balled into one.

"The little flower has an exceptional will to survive. I was quite impressed with your defense skills. And witnessing you summon Fenrir—" He briefly replayed the events of that night, watching the girl fixedly as she fought for her life against the beat, only to have it end with the demon wolf appearing. "—was spectacular, to say the least."

A faint strip of rose graced itself across her cheeks and nose, and he took in the enchanting image readily.

"Come with me, dear," he said, pulling her to the French doors and down the massive hallway.

She watched her bare feet stick to the smooth, cold flooring with every stride, her hand wrapped tightly in Faust's. It was then that she realized that she was in a loose babydoll nightgown, and her whole body seared with the thought of the ever-so-friendly headmaster changing her unconscious body into it. The two of them then entered a large room, and when she looked up her eyes were graced by the most state-of-the-art kitchen she had ever seen in her life. He pulled out a chair and offered for her to take a seat along the counter.

"You must be hungry," he said, walking towards the cabinets. "I remembered a few of your favorites, so I had the help pick some up for when you awoke."

A few of the items were served cold, as they should be, but she couldn't help but to giggle as she watched the man struggle to locate certain items within his own kitchen, tussle with the stove, and thrash about as he attempted to sort of cook some of the other things. As the great culinary battle came to a close, he placed the dishes in front of her, defeated. At least, it appeared his staff had done most of the prep work for him – all of the cutting, measuring, and seasoning. The only thing left with which he had to do was actually heat it and cook it, and he seemed to strain to even do that. How on earth could someone not know how to cook, she wondered, shaking her head with a passive smile across her lips.

"You wouldn't happen to have any tea?" she asked before he came back around the island. He stopped dead in his tracks and stared at her wildly, which freaked her out a little bit; it was definitely not the reaction she was expecting.

"Of course I have tea," he stressed. "What kind would you like?" he then asked, sliding the kettle over the stove and throwing it back on to heat the water.

"Whatever you have, I'm not picky. I practically live off of tea," she laughed as she started to eat, realizing how hungry she had been.

He continued to stare at her with a severe intensity that was quite awkward to assess. "What kind would you like?" he reiterated, pulling open the two doors of a very large cabinet – only to expose it was completely full of loose-tea canisters, containing all sorts flavors.

She sat astonished, before breaking out into laughter. "Surprise me with your favorite, then come join me."

They sat next to each other as they ate their meal, exchanging laughs as they joked and messed around, getting more in touch with one another's silly senses of humor. The near-constant snickering might have caused a slight headache, but the girl didn't have a care in the world. The food was decent; good because it was all her favorites, even though the cooking could have been done better. The tea was splendid, and she admitted she hadn't ever had such fresh, expensive tea before, which she immediately noticed a difference in quality and fell in love with the flavors. And the company was exquisite. Something seemed different about the chancellor, as if he was beginning to truly open up to her, even if just in the slightest, and she soaked it up entirely. After they finished their meal, he asked her if she would enjoy a short tour of his home, to which she accepted the offer gratefully. He showed her around the living area, some of the bedrooms, his private office; they passed by another kitchen, another living space, a music room, more rooms, until he took her to his own bedroom, where she marveled at the size, and the excessive posters upon the cathedral ceilings. There was a massive flatscreen television, bookcases full of books and manga, and video games from every system imaginable. However, she was a little disappointed in how reserved he acted about his own interests.

Walking over to the bookcases, she eyed the collection enthusiastically. "Don't apologize, Johann," she spoke sweetly. "I've read the whole series of these," she said as she pointed to a few different manga on the shelf. "And I'm quite impressed with your video game collection. It's almost as great as mine at home, but not quite," she teased with a grin.

His green orbs were wide in amazement. Surely she was pulling his leg, he thought. No human could be so intellectual and logical, so driven, so philosophical, empathetic, attractive, devious, love tea as much as he did, AND enjoy similar entertainment as he did. There was absolutely no possible way. He eyed her in silence as she, in her short, flowing nightgown, pulled a few games down from the shelf. She was talking to herself as she did, excited over the games he had that she didn't. The sun came in through his window and shined brightly on her as if she were some sort of angel that had graced his presence, and then she turned around to face him, holding a game up to her face.

"Can we play sometime? Pretty please?"

Stunned, he could only muster up a slow nod in reply.

(Author: Mah hart. Mah Sol.)


	19. Chapter 19, Monja

Chapter 19. Monja.

 _Warning: Language_

Putting on his tailcoat and hat, the chancellor informed the girl that he had to leave for a while to announce the cram school students' test results. He invited her to relax within his home and to have a bath. Then, he let her know that he would have his staff lay out fresh clothing for her, so she should get dressed, and he would be back for her soon.

After he departed, the girl did as he said. She was sore and tired already, and a bath sounded wonderful; however, she wasn't expecting the tub to be three times the size of a normal one, or for it to be jetted. The thing was like a big, bubbly hot tub, and she couldn't get over how someone could use something like it as a daily convenience and not as something to splurge on – like going to the local pool and sitting in the public hot tubs. She and her family only did that a couple times a year.

Toweling off her hair, she walked out into the room which she had woken up in that morning, titled as a guest room by the director, only to see that the maids had already made the bed and folded the linens crisply. Laying on the bed, placed neatly and fanned out for presentation, was a long silk organza dress with a deep neckline and an open, crossed back. She let the thin, translucent fabric flow through her fingers as she admired the craftsmanship of the Italian dress. Dropping the towel from around her body, she held it up to her frame and inspected herself in the mirror as the fabric draped over her. She eagerly threw it over her head, pulling the short opaque slip down her hips and letting the rest of the silk drape down to the floor. It fit her almost perfectly; the bust wasn't too large or too tight, the slip hugged her curves just right, while the thin translucent material gathered around her chest and hung loosely from her waist. Placing her foot into one of the heels left by the bed, she marveled at how the combination accentuated her legs by giving the slight hint of a peep, making one beg to see more.

"He's got good taste," she mumbled, turning around to assess the fit from the back, eyeing her exposed, angular shoulders with approval.

Once she was almost done drying her hair in the bathroom, she heard the main doors open and close. Thinking that the headmaster might be back, she rushed to finish applying a tolerable amount of makeup; something she usually ended up skipping, besides perhaps a coat of mascara to highlight her long lashes. The dress was rather intoxicating, and she wanted a complete look.

Satisfied, she went out into the living area to look for Johann, the sounds of her heels echoing throughout the halls. Realizing that he was nowhere to be found, she headed up the stairs for his room, where she nearly walked in on him changing. Gasping, she jumped back out into the hall and slammed her back against the wall, face red as a traffic light. He definitely didn't have a shirt on, that was for sure, but she didn't linger long enough to see if he was still wearing any pants. Holy shit, holy shit, she thought repeatedly.

A strong chuckle sounded from the room. "A little eager, are we?" he roared as he changed.

Her face continued to boil. Why the hell would he leave his door wide open while he was changing, she screamed internally. Not that she was opposed to seeing him undressed per-say, but this incident caught her way too off guard. Wrong timing.

"Come in here, little flower," the headmasters voice said artfully.

She gulped. Oh dear god. Hesitantly, she peeked around the doorway, scared of what she might find. Instead of what she thought could have been him sprawled out on the bed awaiting her entry, Johann stood tying his yukata around his waist. Letting out a sigh of nervous relief, she stepped into the room where he waited for her with his intense green eyes. "How do I look?" she asked with a broken smile as he looked her up and down.

He met her, pulling her close by the waist. "Absolutely, irrevocably beautiful," he said in a hushed, labored tone as he moved in closer, resting a hand on the side of her face. Her heart began to thump in her chest and she closed her eyes as his lips grazed against her own, only to be shut down when he placed a tender kiss on her cheek. "I have a surprise," he said as he pulled away from the rather frustrated girl. "Come."

* * *

The limo stopped outside of an older, open shop, where the girl could see her cram school classmates sitting and talking at one of the tables. Monja! Without a word, she darted from the vehicle to her friends, almost falling as she latched her arms around Rin, Yukio, and Shiemi.

"There you are!" Shiemi gasped. "Where have you been?!"

"We've been worried about you!" Rin beamed.

"We only heard word that you were injured during the test," Suguro said, folding his arms together. "We didn't even know how badly."

"Were you in the hospital, too?" someone asked.

"Are you okay?!" someone else shouted.

"I've been at headmaster Fausts' mansion, I suppose he was taking care of my wounds?" her voiced raised with an uncertain nuance. Feeling the questioning eyes upon her, she decided to continue. "Apparently, I was out cold. I didn't wake up until this morning." Yukio got up from the table and sauntered off somewhere.

Shiemi reached over and squeezed the girl's neck tight within her arms. "I'm so happy you're okay!"

"What the hell happened to you?" Rin asked blatantly, raising a brow. "How did you get hurt? I thought Yukio was taking you somewhere or something."

Her face grew a bit more serious. "He did. He took me to the cafeteria, and then left me there, locking the door behind him. That's when I got attacked." Everyone's inquisitive expressions were fixated on the girl, since this was the first time they were hearing any sort of details of her excursion. Noticing their fishing mannerisms, prompting her to give more details, she carried on. "A huge ghoul attacked me. I could tell by the smell, the thing was awful."

"Damn, I know!" Rin spat, a heat rising in his veins as he looked over at his younger brother, standing outside the building with Mephisto. How could he just leave her, she couldn't even see demons unless they wanted to be seen by her, he grumbled to himself.

"I did everything I could think of, but it wasn't enough. I got hit, and I guess I passed out. All I remember was Fenrir tearing the ghoul to shreds, and then waking up in headmaster Faust's mansion."

"So, Fenrir saved you?" Shiemi asked sweetly. "He must be a good demon, then."

The girl eyed her, cautiously thinking over her words. "How did you guys do? I heard two more ghouls had attacked the dormitory."

"Little Shiemi here shielded everyone, while Bon and Miwa recited whatever versus they had memorized," Shima said, patting a blushing, bubbly Shiemi on the head. "Izumo and I fought the ghoul off the best we could until Bon finally killed it."

The girl congratulated everyone for their valiant efforts in defeating the demon, impressed by their awesome skills. She didn't have nearly as many verses memorized as the aspiring Arias, and Shiemi's greenman proved again and again to be very useful in so many different situations. "What about Rin?" she asked.

Hearing his name, Rin snapped back into the conversation, eyes meeting the girl's.

"The bozo apparently went off and killed the ghoul all by himself," Izumo stated with her nose in the air, letting him know she didn't believe him one bit.

Drawing their attention to the hooded boy and the kid with the puppet sitting in the corner of the shop, the girl asked doubtfully: "And those two?"

"They basically did exactly as they're doing now – nothing," Suguro hissed.

Shiemi began toying with the thin fabric on the girl's dress. "Where did you get his dress? It's beautiful!"

Her face grew red hot. "Oh, uh, well – Sir Faust had it set it out for me to wear today."

The boy in the black hoodie abruptly stopped playing his handheld game, almost dropping it to his lap.

* * *

"You shouldn't have interfered by leaving her that gun," Mephisto spoke lowly, cooling himself from the summer heat with a paper fan.

Yukio stared off into the distance with an unyielding expression. "She could have died."

"I had everything under control. Though I was quite pleasantly surprised to see that she summoned Fenrir without having to draw any blood," his lips coiled to expose his fangs as he spoke. "I had a rather interesting talk with him before sending him back to Gehenna."

"What are your plans, Pheles?" Yukio questioned, shooting a piercing gaze over to the director. Mephisto casually met his eye for a moment while he continued to wave his fan.

"I do apologize for Noihaus' behavior. I never dreamed that he would act out such a personal vendetta," he finally said, peering up at the young teacher under sly lids with a sharp look. "I'll make sure it never happens again."


	20. Chapter 20, Confessions

Chapter 20. Confessions

It was a hot, sticky summer day at the University. Rin had put on his nicest t-shirt and cut-off jeans, trying his best to appear as attractive as possible while remaining cool enough for being out in the weather. He grabbed his wallet and headed out to meet the girl down by the waterfront. When he got there, she was waiting for him in a pair of high-waisted jean shorts and a cop tee, hiding her eyes behind large sunglasses and an over sized floppy hat, her nose plastered to her phone as she texted. He couldn't help but to beam excitedly when he saw her looking so cute.

It was their first time actually hanging out totally alone. When he had invited her out the other day, he was practically sweating through his shirt from being so nervous. But of course, she just smiled as sweetly as ever and accepted the invitation rather eagerly.

Today was the day, he told himself repeatedly. He was going to make his move on her. He was going to let her know how he felt about her. The problem was, he didn't even really know how he felt about her himself—he just knew he was drawn to her and he couldn't get enough. She might not have been his typical type, but perhaps he just needed to broaden his horizons and think outside the box. She was beautiful after all, in her own way, but she could be so brash at times. And then, of course, there was Shiemi, who he adored. But he just couldn't get this girl out of his head for some reason.

The two of them strolled the boardwalk, trying new strange foods, and some of the best versions of usual, every day things that usually weren't very amazing—like macaroni and cheese, or shaved ice. Everything was revamped and tickled new tastebuds. She had made sure to repeatedly either buy her own food, or to switch back and forth on who bought what during the day, which Rin thought was really awesome of her.

They walked through a bunch of the shops, trying on random clothing and putting together the most ridiculous outfits, turning it into a haute couture battle of ensemble fails which they modeled like a runway. Some other shop goers got in on the action and applauded the outrageous and bizarre, giving everyone a good laugh. Rin's stomach did a flip every time the girl would pull him in close for a selfie of their worst outfits they managed to throw together. Lime green pant suits with alligator boots, five belts configured to look like an astronaut harness, neon heart sunglasses—don't forget the ugliest handbag they had ever seen. He often found her distracted, smiling at something on her phone, but would get her attention and make her laugh until she almost snorted.

Venturing into some of the oddity shops, they marveled at the strange combinations of animals some taxidermists would stitch together, or the shrunken heads or shark egg sacks that were on display. The two friends laughed their way well into the evening, when the sun threw crimson lights across the sky and the old glass street lamps buzzed on. They sat on the beach eating ice cream as the sun went down, listening to the gentle lap of the waves, talking about their lives rather deeply. Rin found an abandoned towel on the beach and draped it over her legs as a chill rolled in from the water, and scooted in close to her so they could share. She began telling him stories of some of her awful ex-boyfriends, and how terribly they had treated her. He told her how happy he was that she was out of such a situation, and reminded her that she was worth so much more than that heartache.

Things were doing so well between them, and he just couldn't take it anymore. While looking her deep in the eyes, the sun setting ever so perfectly in the back drop, he slowly closed his eyes and leaned in close—only to have her reposition her whole body and swerve out of the way of his incoming face.

* * *

"Ouch man, are you serious?" Shima said, sucking air in through his gritted teeth.

Rin slammed his head onto the table in defeat. "Yep."

"Well, what did she say?"

"That she saw me more as a little brother!" Rin whimpered, wincing his eyes closed as tight as he could while his heart broke for a second time, reliving the moments. Raising his head and sniffling, he wiped his nose. "I asked her if there was someone else."

"And?" Shima questioned.

* * *

It was a hot, sticky summer day at the University. The girl lounged in her bikini by the pool, large sunglasses and an over sized floppy hat shielding her from the sun, her nose plastered to a book. The door to the large mansion opened, as the tall figure of a dark haired man exited onto the patio, carrying two iced teas in his hands. The girl eyed him from under the safety of her dark glasses, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible.

He motioned for her to scoot up on the reclined chair, and he sat behind her, pulling her back almost into his lap. The two were interrupted by her phone chiming, alerting her of a new text. Setting her book down, she opened the message from Rin, where he was asking her if they were still meeting up later that day. The man behind her grumbled lowly about the impending get-together, to which she assured him that there was nothing to worry about.

After all, Rin was more like the carefree, silly little brother she had never had.


	21. Chapter 21, A Demon's Proposition

Chapter 21. A Demon's Proposition

 _Warning: Language_

It was her first mission as an official Exwire: Go to the far side of True Cross town to recover a delivery and bring it back to the Japan Branch headquarters. It might have been a task for an errand girl, but at least it was some form of official business from the Order, and she was not going to let them down. Her goal was to show how good she was at her 'job' as an exorcist, to prove her often scrutinized competence and usefulness from the professors and higher ups. They of course, like even the students, questioned how far she could make it in the Order with her lack of temptaint. Rumors began to spread even among the teachers of reasons to explain why she had yet to receive hers; wild stories varying from allergies to her being a demon herself and pretending circulated.

And as she began spending more and more time around the headmaster, people all across the order began to buzz about what could be going on between the two—was he protecting her? Mentoring her? Perhaps seeing her romantically? A lot of people laughed at the notion of Pheles being romantic in any sense. Perhaps a sexual sadist, they would sneer. And all the higher ups seemed to gossip about what would happen if a human received their temptaint directly from a Demon King.

Members of the order of course kept these fables and speculation under tight lock and key when in the presence of the Japan Branch director, Mephisto; and still even hushed when he was not in the vicinity, as they all knew how he operated. Very little happened that he didn't know about.

Unfortunately, the opposite was true about the girl. Carefully guided by her headmaster, she was kept in the shadows about more than just one thing. To her, he was still just Johann Faust, the human headmaster of True Cross University, a simple exorcist, and the director of the Japan sect.

Looking at the time on her phone, she exited the co-op game she had been playing with Johann, and grabbed her bags as she stood. The delivery would be arriving soon, so she had decided to get a head start on her trip. The headmaster had already offered to have his driver take her all the way across town, but she had declined his offer, instead insisting that it was a mission she must complete on her own without any help – especially without the special help from the director. Recently, he had been becoming increasingly more comfortable interacting publicly with the girl, but she always had to tell him no, and remind him that they didn't need to give people the wrong idea. Her being at his residence, alone, was enough to spread the rumors she was blissfully unaware of. Having her being escorted around by his staff would insinuate much more was going on between the two. He couldn't help but to admire her determination, and chuckle at the state of denial she was in.

Johann sent her off on her first mission with a hug and a peck on her nose, leaving a warm feeling in the bottom of her stomach as she began her trek. Reviewing her map of the town, she found that walking through the woods would cut her expedition nearly in half. Plus, she reasoned, the trees would offer some protection from the summer heat a bit. It was a long journey through the woods, but thankfully there were some winding paths cut out through the trees that saved her legs from getting any more scraped up.

Arriving on the other side of town, she followed her map and the street signs until she found the dark little supply shop, tucked away in a corner. As she opened the door, a large raven with one eye cawed and flapped his wings at her, throwing feathers all about, scaring a shriek out of her. The shop was lit by beeswax candles, and smelled like musty, centuries-old paper. The shelves were cluttered with rare and strange items, some handcrafted, scattered scrolls, rat tails and other dried animal parts, spices and herbs of all kinds, a few live plants, and a plethora of bottles.

A potions shop? She thought as she took in the chaos.

The sound of rattling drew her attention to the back of the shop, where a hunched, frail old woman came from the back room through a curtain of beads, shells, claws, and bones strung together. Her white frizz of a hair looked as untouched as some of the dusty items in her shop, as it packed together and began to form dreadlocks. As she walked to the counter, she pulled off a headdress of twigs and antlers, setting it down. Her cloudy eyes looked straight at the girl, revealing her wrinkled face, where a single gem was stuck into her forehead which changed colors depending on the way the light hit the cut of the stone.

"What does she want?" the woman spoke with a stale, thick accent.

"I-I'm here to pick up a delivery," she paused, looking around the shop once more. "An order, maybe?" It didn't look like the kind of place for a delivery. It was the farthest thing from a post office she had ever seen. "I'm from the True Cross order."

Without a word, the woman grunted as she hopped down from the counter, heading once again to the back of the shop. A few banging noises came from the back room, including a hiss from a cat before it darted out between the girls' legs. The old hag came back out shortly with a package wrapped in brown butchers' paper, which she held out over the counter. When the girl approached and reached a hand out for it, it was quickly snatched by the woman, who began inspecting the creases in her skin. Letting out a labored sigh, she released the girl's wrist from her surprisingly tight grip and continued to stare her down as she left the shop. The girl caught a glimpse of the woman through the window, lighting a bundle of sage, her cloudy pupils still on the girl as she passed.

She darted down the street and headed back into the forest where she finally broke down into a walk for the rest of her trip back to campus. It was beginning to grow dark in the woods after walking through the tree canopy for so long, and her bare legs were chilly as she trudged on through the bushes. What a strange woman, she thought, looking at the palm that was inspected.

While her attention was focused elsewhere, a pair of arms reached down from the trees above her, snatching the package from her and disappearing into the tree cover. She gasped loudly and called out, swearing under her breath and demanding that the perpetrator show themselves.

A pointy green head of hair dropped down from the trees slowly, until a whole body was exposed, floating midair; long black nails clutched onto the package.

The hair on the back of her neck stood on end to see someone float upside down before her very eyes. "Do you work with that witch? Are you here to steal that back?!"

The boy cocked his head to the side. "Witch? I'm afraid I don't know many witches from this world. Most I know have already sold their souls to Satan and come to live with us."

What the hell?

"Now, what's this?" he said, sliding a sharp nail down the paper, slicing it open. The contents of the poorly bundled package spilled out from the wrapping and landed on the ground beneath him. "Oopsie."

The girl darted for the contents of the spilled package, hurriedly picking up the items—a scroll, a potion, a rabbit's foot, a book. As she kneeled, the boy lowered himself even more to the point he was directly within her line of sight. She looked over his dull, expressionless face; he had a wooden popsicle stick in his mouth, which he was chewing on lightly. "You're a demon," she said smoothly, her heart not even wavering.

"Yes," he replied. "And I know who you are."

She raised a bow. "How do you know that?"

"Let's say I've been interested in you for a bit."

Pausing, she thought hard. "Are you the demon that's been stalking me my entire life?"

Pulling the chewed up piece of wood from his mouth, he scanned it over, and tossed it into the bushes. "Do you want me to be?" he asked, looking at her with a hint of curiosity in his dull eyes.

"I'd like the truth," she replied sternly.

"Maybe," he said calmly, pulling a lollipop from his pocket and popping it into his mouth. "But maybe not."

"How does this work," she questioned with narrow eyes. "I make a wager, I do something for you, what?"

He spun around in a circle as he hummed and hawed. "How about this—" he started, a little excitedly. "I'll tell you the truth, and I'll even teach you how to see demons."

"If?" she asked, eyes widening.

Knowing that his elder brother had yet to claim this girl for himself, as he was savoring every minute of the game by slowly wooing her over time with his crafty charm, Amaimon took advantage of the opportunity he was given to explore Japan and show himself to her; and to be his usual, brash self. He knew precisely what she wanted, and although he wasn't exactly sure what to do with these humans, something about her called out to him – just as it had his brothers. He himself lacked the cunning nature of his elder brother, so he decided to work with what he did best, which was being straight to the point. "If you seal our pact with a kiss."

Her face churned with shock. What the hell is going on lately, she thought wildly. Why would he want a kiss? It seemed fishy to her. She would receive everything she wanted, and all this demon got was a measly little peck on the lips? What if that was a way to sell her soul, she wondered. What if he was an incubus, a demon who lied and tricked women in order to shag them. Or perhaps, she wondered, what if it was some form of possession? She had never interacted with a demon like this, and each demon she had studied in her textbooks were so different in their interests, motivations, and abilities. She of course could risk it, since he seemed harmless enough, but perhaps that was the catch. However, a temptaint was very enticing; maybe it wouldn't hurt, she thought. The image of Johann flashed through her mind briefly among her internal unrest.

"And if I say no?" she finally asked.

"Oh," he sighed plainly. "Well, I guess there's no deal," he said as he levitated upwards into the air and flipped right-side up.

"Wait!" she yelled, jumping to her feet as she hugged the items to her chest. "Will I see you again?" There were so many questions she wished to ask.

The demon turned and examined her with a plain expression. Of course he wanted that, and he was elated to hear her ask. Floating over to her, he held out an extended pinky finger. "Only if you promise to keep this a secret."

"Deal," she said without giving the proposal any further thought, fumbling with the items in her grasp until she could wrap her pinky around his.

(Author: Amaimonnnnn what are you doinnggggggg stoooooppppp)


	22. Chapter 22, Ghost Hunting

Chapter 22, Ghost Hunting.

Waiting outside of the baths for Moriyama, the girl clung to the new uniform that was handed to her by the director, as a sort of impromptu mission. Since they were all now official exwires, Shiemi needed a proper uniform in which she would represent The Order, so he gave the girl the task to deliver the outfit to the blonde girl that morning, before their first group mission. She had texted Shiemi right away to meet her at the girls' dorm room bath to get ready together, and get some girl time, which they had seriously been lacking as of late.

In her usual yukata, Shiemi smiled as bright as ever as she walked over to the girl leaning against the wall, and after one of those long, I've missed you so much, squealing embraces, the two headed in to get ready. Being bombarded by the steam of the fresh baths, they decided it wouldn't hurt to take a quick, relaxing dip before the day's mission, and so they hopped into the hot water, sighing as their muscles eased.

Shiemi then turned to the girl with a sweet smile and broke the silence. "I'm really glad to see you, I feel like it's been forever."

"I know, me too. I've just been…busy, I guess," the girl replied, slowly slapping the water with her hand, watching the pull of the current taking bubbles down under the surface, where they struggled, and dissipated. "I've been with the headmaster a lot."

"So, are you two…?" Shiemi's cheeks turned pink with her implication.

The girl furrowed her brow and pouted her lips a bit. "I don't know—sometimes I start to think he's into me, and then when I want him to do something about it, he doesn't." Moriyama rested her head against the edge of the bath, listening intently to the girls' frustrations. "But then," she continued, "when I start to think, 'Oh we're just friends, never mind,' he gets really touchy with me and works me up again. And then I feel like I push him away cause it's such a shock."

"Maybe he's just not sure what you want," Shiemi tried to reason. The girl let out a heavy sigh and shrunk down into the water, her mind rewinding over the last few months. "Have you spoken to Rin at all?" Shiemi finally asked.

She reluctantly came up from the bath water. "Not really. That's part of why I haven't been hanging out with you guys much besides training and studying with Yukio. I mean, things are just kind of awkward still." Awkward as hell, she thought. Rin tried to kiss her. A demon wanted a kiss. Johann was always back and forth on the subject. "I'm really glad you made peace with Izumo, though."

"Me too," the blonde said with a smile. Of course she missed the girl's company, but she was apparently going through some troubles lately, and Shiemi always tried her hardest to understand her friends.

It was around that time that Izumo and Paku walked into the bath, and they all waved at one another. After they had went to the showers, the girl and Shiemi got up and toweled off, and the girl tossed the new uniform to Shiemi, telling her to put it on. As they were dressing, Izumo got out of the showers herself, only to see Moriyama struggling to figure out how to wear the uniform.

"Here," Izumo said, helping show Shiemi how to wear it.

"Don't forget your belt," Paku said as she passed by on the way to her locker.

The girl looked over Shiemi, fully dressed in her new uniform, face red with embarrassment. She then placed her hands on the tie that Izumo had done, and began to unknot it, telling Moriyama to be quiet for a moment while she re-tied it differently. "There," she said, taking a step back and looking at her handiwork. "A cute bow – it suits you better!"

Shiemi peered down at the new knot, and smiled warmly. "Thank you!"

* * *

"I knew we were going to be late!" Izumo shouted as the girls sprinted towards Mephy Land.

"We're sorry!" Shiemi shouted as they came upon the boys. "We got held up!"

Rin ogled at the blonde in her new uniform, and the girl just giggled quietly to herself as the classmates told the shy little blonde just how cute she was in her new uniform. That's who Rin needs to be with, she thought to herself with a curling smile and a warmth growing in her heart. It had been clear to her for months that he held true feelings for Shiemi; even if she herself had had feelings for Rin, she would have turned his advances down. They wouldn't be a good match as romantic partners. But Rin and Shiemi? Oh, absolutely, she thought.

"Alright, now that everyone is here, I'll be dividing you all up into pairs," Yukio shouted authoritatively, getting everyone to pipe down and pay attention before he began naming off the groups. "Since we have an odd number, you'll be with me," Yukio said to the girl, who scowled back at him. He was always babying her. After a thorough run down of the mission at hand, and a description of what a ghost was via Izumo, Yukio dismissed everyone to spread out across the empty amusement park. The girl loosely followed the two teachers around the starting area, her mind off in another world.

"He probably wants me to stay here because I wouldn't even be able to see the damn ghost," she grumbled under hear breath, pulling a piece of gum off of the corner of a building a tossing it into a nearby trash can. Quite a bit of time had passed already, and she was no closer to exploring deeper into the amusement park in search for the ghost than when the hunt first started, and it was becoming clear that Yukio had no intentions of actually looking for the ghost with her. As she glanced over to the two teachers, who were lost in conversation while they looked over their charts, an idea popped into her mind – she might still be able to sense the ghost if she got close to it. And according to the report, it wasn't a very threatening ghost, so there was a possibility that it was one she could handle even by herself, she thought. Keeping her gaze straight, locked onto the professors, she began slowly scooting around the corner of the building, inch by inch, until she was out of sight completely. She raced through the rows of buildings, tents, and attractions until she was fairly certain it was far enough away from the teachers that they wouldn't be able to find her easily before she slowed any. Panting, she came to a stop, putting her palms on her knees as she bent over so she could catch her breath.

And suddenly, there was something. A presence of some kind.

Doing as Yukio had taught her in their tutoring sessions, she closed her eyes, and tried to focus on the feeling, trying her best to push all other things from her mind in the process as to not let the presence escape her senses. The sounds of the wind howling high in the sky settled; the aromas of the cold amusement park food in the closed-up tents became blander, until she couldn't smell them at all anymore. And there, in the dark, was a child-like sense, off in the distance, over her left shoulder.

Snapping her eyes open, she darted off once more between the rows of tents, trying to follow the aura to the best of her ability. She chuckled to herself, proud of how far along she had come in such a short amount of time; even some of the other exwire's hadn't yet been able to sense demons and spirits as well as her, and they had their temptaint. It was possible that her lack thereof heightened her senses altogether, much like a blind person hears better than the average person with sight, or it was possible that she had some sort of natural ability being quelled by the lack of a temptaint; but she chalked it up to her hard work, which only caused her to want to work harder to reach her goals. Chasing down the apparition seemed like a personal test to her – had her senses become good enough to actually track demons? She beamed enthusiastically as she jogged, excited to find out.

Coming to a sprawling building whose top came to a tall point, the presence she felt was still onward. Looking to both the left and right, it seemed as though her best bet would be going through the building itself to continue the trail. Noticing that one of the slider doors was open just a tiny bit, she walked over to it slowly, and peered into the black that poured out of the building like a thick veil. She poked her head through the door and looked all around her; there were a few windows where solid light beams were shining down onto the dirt floor, and a crack of light here and there from the other large, sliding doors on the other side of the building. It smelled strongly of dust and animals, but the sweet smell of kettle corn lingered in the air as well.

The dark absorbed her body as she slipped inside the building, the gravel crunching lightly beneath her feet. The presence she had felt, suddenly felt very near, as if it were in the building with her – but she couldn't see a thing. Tripping over a chair, she gasped loudly as she caught herself, only to clasp her hands over her mouth. She held as still as possible, trying to sense the ghost again. It was hard to feel. Maybe she scared it, she wondered.

Suddenly, the spotlights at the top of the point blared on, shining down on the ground, exposing the middle ring and the tightrope poles. Purple, red, and white stripes were painted on the inside of the coned ceiling, the tall tightrope masts were purple in color, and the back wall was painted with elaborate scrolls which served as the hair to an intricate clown mural. The clown had a stripped hat and a polka-dotted frill, and the mouth was gaping open to a hole in the wall to the back room where the performers would pour out from. It became clear that this was a permanent circus tent, which meant that she was all the way on the far side of the amusement park.

Her heart beat heavier and heavier in her chest as she ambled past the miscellaneous chairs and rows of red and purple pews, toward the main ring. Paw prints from the performance animals were still in the dirt, showing signs of a couple days age by the softening of the outlines from the draft that rolled through the building, causing the large doors to bang against the walls with each gust. In the center of the ring, there was a single foot print, with a brushed circle of what appeared to be air that was forced down around it somehow. Upon further inspection, the girl noticed that there were no other human foot prints in the large center ring, and this one was fresh. The high spot light cast shadows all around her, and her mind twisted them into potential threats, causing her heart to skip a beat every few seconds.

The hair on the back of her neck stood on end as the presence suddenly became very strong. A loud thump echoed above her, and as she looked up, she stared in bewilderment as the trapeze swing flung back and forth, smacking back into the large purple pole. There was something else in the building, but it was still too dark to see elsewhere out of the center ring.

Her heart pumped wildly as something tickled her waist, and she spun around flailing arms and legs like a rabid beast, coming into contact with something as hard as a boulder. Squealing as she thrashed with eyes closed, her fists landed on something that wrapped around her wrists tightly and held her in place until she couldn't move any longer, as if her arms had been cemented in place.

Cracking open her lids, she gasped loudly.

The same green haired demon stood in front of her, holding on to both of her wrists, to keep the annoying flaps of her arms from smacking him, even though her strikes only felt like dull tingles upon his body. He watched her eyes expand; only to recede as her body relaxed from the familiar face. He wasn't quite sure what kind of emotions were running through her, nor did he particularly care. Emotions weren't a strong suit for demons, and his comprehension of them was especially watered down.

"It's you again—what are you doing here?" the girl questioned.

His grip on her wrists loosened. "I had some time to spare. I wanted to see you again," he said plainly, eyes scanning the human's face.

"Why?" she asked, squinting one eye, perplexed.

The lollipop in his mouth crunched loudly as he bit down on it. "I find you interesting."

Pulling her hands from his, she examined him closely, taking in his long, black nails, the strange outfit which adorned his slim figure, and his expressionless face. Why would a demon be so interested in her, she wondered, keeping silent as she planned out her words carefully. "So you came to see me, because you had a moment. A moment from what exactly? What are you doing?"

"I'm going to play for a bit," he said, toying with the paper stick in his mouth.

"With who?"

"My brother."

Her heart thumped in her chest. Another demon? "Who's your brother?"

"I can't answer that question," he said plainly.

She furrowed her brow. "What are you going to play with him?"

"I can't answer that question, either," he said as he pulled out the stick and looked it over. "The food in this world is very good." Pulling out some candies from his pockets, he held them out to the girl. "Would you like one?"

She looked over the assortment of hard and chewable candy in his palm, only to focus on his sharp nails once more. Her gut sank a little. "No thanks – are you going to tell me if you're the demon who's been following me my whole life, or not?"

Pulling a wrapper off of a piece and shoving the rest back into his pocket, he looked back up at the girl with bored eyes. "I told you what the price was for that sort of question."

Her heart thumped again, this time harder. A kiss. Just a simple, little kiss, and she would at least get an answer. Her mind could be at ease finally, instead of thinking about it every day and wondering if she would ever get the chance to ask this demon again. And who knew if she would see him another time.

His eyes shot wide open as soft, warm hands came into contact with both sides of his chilled face ever so lightly. Something inside of him jumped and turned in a way that he couldn't explain as the girl's pupils danced around his face, hesitantly leaning in closer and closer to him. What could such a strange, alien feeling be, he wondered. As the girl placed her lips upon his cheek, barely missing his own lips, the flipping feeling inside of him exploded into something extraordinary, like hundreds of fireworks being set off at once, rocketing through his veins, setting him ablaze. And for the first time in his life, he felt a warmth in the pit of his belly.

Opening her eyes, she pulled away softly, only to have his hands caress hers and keep them in contact with his flushed cheeks. His eyes were wide with wonder, and her heart filled with dread, wondering what sort of curse might befall her for making such a foolhardy decision. But she had to know. Her pouty lips cracked, and her voice broke as she tried to speak. "Are you the demon that's been following me since I was little?"

He found himself unable to speak for the time being, and resorted to faintly shaking his head 'no,' eyes still wide. Her face changed to something that he couldn't quite place his finger on, and he watched her eyes become as glossy as the ocean as his hands fell from hers, releasing them from the caress.

"Do you know who is?" she prodded, almost whispering.

"M-my brother," he answered. And with that, he hopped into the black, and a gust of wind took the presence that she had felt, far away to the other side of the park.


	23. Chapter 23, Art Gallery

Chapter 23, Art Gallery.

After a thorough debriefing from the higher-ups on the events that had taken place at Mephy land, causing the destruction of multiple rides, buildings, and tents, including the statue of the director, the exwire's were excused for the rest of the evening. Rin however was drug off somewhere with a strange woman who no one had seen before, claiming she was a first class exorcist and senior inspector. She wore the same pants as the elusive boy in the hoodie, but surely, everyone speculated, they couldn't have been the same person—that would have meant she had been spying on the class for months.

The girl returned to the headmasters' mansion like he had asked her to. The iron knocker on the large, wooden doors startled her for the very first time; it was in the image of a black, twisted demon with horns, while the knocking ring was clenched between four sharp fangs. She stood on the steps staring at it's cat eyes, unable to take the ring within her grasp for quite some time.

Finally, she quickly grabbed it, knocking as hard as she could three times, and tossed the ring back at the little black demon as she launched herself backwards with a huff.

After just a second, the heavy door creaked open to reveal the butler, who stepped out of the way for her. "The master was expecting you, but I'm afraid he is out at the moment. He informed me to let you in, and asked that you wait for him."

He must be busy dealing with the wreckage, she thought to herself in silence as she stepped through the door. There was no doubt in her mind that the green haired demon caused all the damage to the amusement park. He had disappeared just moments before she began hearing the turmoil in the distance. She was positive, that as the head of the Japan Branch of the True Cross Order, that Johann was meeting with the other upper class exorcists, debating how to hunt down and get rid of such a powerful, destructive demon.

To take up some time, she strolled the halls of the mansion as she was lost in thought, looking at the dated art hung on the walls. It was obvious that the University and mansion themselves were extremely old, but seeing some of the dates on the paintings gave her just a bit more of an insight as to how old they might actually be. How on earth could the director afford some of these pieces, she asked herself – some of them were from the middle ages all the way up to the Victorian era, depicting the war between God and Satan, the battle for Assiah, demons, and the reaper. They were from all over the world, and it was quite the private collection, but fitting for an exorcist with expensive taste. She giggled at that last thought.

There were old, unnamed portraits hung every once in a while, and she would stop and inspect them before moving on. One in particular stole her attention; an oil portrait from what appeared to be the Georgian, or Rococo period, based on the soft lines, the fluffiness, and the pastels used. It was a portrait of a man from the waist up, an obvious elite by the intricate details of his garments; he wore a light lavender purple coat, which had gold leaf brushed into it, as if the original fabric was a brocade of some sort, and it had gold trim and buttons. The collar was high up to the mans strong jawline, and a fluffy, mauve and white cravat was tied around his neck and tucked into a cream and gold leaf waistcoat with pastel buttons. His dark hair was pulled back and tied off with a bow, and his angular face was partially obscured by a dark, almost black tricorn hat, which a had similar gold trim around the brim folds, and a large cream plume in it. From what she could see of his eye from under the heavy brim, were electric green eyes that struck her to her very core. His long fingers were draped over the gemstone-encrusted hilt of a rapier sword, which hung from his hip. She cocked her head to the side, finding it curious how similar his facial structure was to that of headmaster Faust's. There was of course, no name, but it was dated in the mid 1700's. It must be one of his ancestors, she thought; and perhaps that's where he had gotten so much money, he must have come from a very old, wealthy family.

She then walked by an old painting that caught her eye even more than the others. It was a great interpretation of Assiah and Gehenna taking up a majority of the large wall in the corridor, with what appeared to be an angelic hierarchy on the bottom, and a demonic order along the top of the canvas. In the center were two beings, on each side of the worlds, which seemed like crude, Gothic era depictions of God and Satan. The godly figure held the scripture in his arm, and the angels around it were glad in gold robes, with white wings, and silver trumpets; on the other side, the Satan figure held a baby within its fangs, and the demons depicted wore black and silver robes, with tails twisting out from behind them, and blue flames being cast from each of their hands. The flames of Satan.

Her eyes scanned along the top of the almost mural-like work. There, in the background of the portrayal of Hell, was a demon with a sharp point on its head, with large arms and horns on its forehead. She stared at the point on the demon's head, her mind flashing back to the demon that came to her earlier that day. She rested her fingers lightly on her lips, remembering how his skin felt; she shuddered a bit, still uneasy. 'My brother,' he repeated, over and over and over. Who was his brother, she wondered, taking in the scene before her. Could it be, that the demon that came to her was part of this Demon Hierarchy-could he have been a Demon King? She speculated, eyes widening. That would mean there wasn't just a 'brother,' but seven brothers in total. All extremely powerful; all terrifying. A cold chill ran up her spine, freezing her in place so much she could barely breathe. Shaking her head, she trotted off, far away from the painting.

After perusing the halls for quite some time, feeling lonelier with each passing minute, she returned to the main living area, grabbing a blanket to curl up into. Plopping herself onto the couch, she turned on the television to keep herself as busy and distracted as possible, while her mind tried to replay the events of that day.

She wasn't sure how much time had passed, but the sun was going down and painted the sky a muted pink and orange and navy by the time the director walked through the front door. She glanced over at him from the couch as he handed his cloak to the butler, who seemed to have motioned towards the girl. Johann's tired gaze whirled her way as he loosened his necktie. "I'll be in a meeting in my office," he said in a serious tone, his feet almost never stopping once he entered to when he headed for the stairs to his private study. The woman from the amusement park earlier that day followed suit, her red hair bouncing lightly with each stride. As she passed, she glanced over at the girl with a hard expression, until she herself headed up the stairwell after the chancellor.

Carefully closing the door behind her, Shura quickly turned to Mephisto-who slumped into his chair-with a dour look in her eyes. "Why is that girl, a student, in your house at this time of night?"

His eyes narrowed as his lips curled into a toothy smirk. It was just like the fiery woman to get straight to the point. "I'm merely teaching her how to use her talents, of course," he lied through his fangs. "I had her wait for me – I never dreamed that the interrogation would take so long."

Seeing through his dark façade, Shura dropped in the chair across from his large wooden desk. "So I guess the rumors are true then, about you and her?"

The headmaster's whole demeanor changed within an instant. "What rumors do you speak of? Surely I have no clue as to what you're talking about," he said, smiling in such an inviting manner that it was even difficult for a person as suspicious as the redhead not to fall victim too.


	24. Chapter 24, Lust

Chapter 24, Lust.

 _Warning: Suggestive/Mature Content_

The meeting between Johann and Ms. Kirigakure droned on well into the night. Frustrated and exhausted, the girl finally gave up, turning off the television and tossing down the remote with a huff. She decided to take a quick shower and go to bed, instead of waiting for the headmaster to be done with his meeting with that woman—with her big lips, and great hair, and huge tits, and her barely-wearing-any-clothes-self. She wasn't even going to let her mind run rampant on what the meeting upstairs could entail; it just seemed pointless to her to hope to get some time with him at such a late hour.

She grumbled all the way to bed, flopping on the luxurious guest room mattress and pulling the comforter up and over herself, letting the noiseless room carry her off into sleep. After some time, the muffled exchange of words trailed down the stairwell and echoed almost inaudibly throughout the commons area, and down the hall, slipping into the open door to the bedroom where she lay. She nuzzled into the linens more, just on the cusp of falling into a deep slumber when the voices caressed her ears; she could hear the noises off in the distance, but they weren't quite registering as she lulled off into a slow, deep breathing.

The mansion fell quiet as the silver moon peeked through the silk curtains. The air around her changed slightly, but not enough for her to take notice – not until she began to feel the covers slowly shifting on the side of the bed, closest to the bedroom door. She took in a deep, sleepy breath as the mattress slowly depressed behind her repeatedly, getting closer and closer. It was then that the feeling of something skimming down her shoulder, to her waist, met her; alarmed by the touch, she began to wake up enough to be coherent. She drew in a sharp breath as goosebumps rose over her body, and glanced over her shoulder for a second only to see the image of Johann behind her, propping himself up with his other arm.

"What are you doing in the guest room, little flower?" he cooed in a hushed tone, pulling his necktie off.

"Sleeping," she said a blunt tone, closing her eyes.

A wandering hand moved back up her sides and made their way to her neck, pulling her mess of damp hair away from her face and exposing the peach membrane beneath it. His fingers grazed along her edges until they made it up to her jaw, where he enticed her to turn her face to him. "Without me?" he asked with a sultry pout in his voice.

"You were in a meeting. It was taking forever," she replied, closing her eyes once more and trying to lay her head back down on the pillow, in a feeble attempt to display her displeasure.

He could only find her grouchy protest absolutely endearing. Grabbing her more firmly, he rolled her over so she lay flat and look at him once more. "You still could have waited for me in my room," his lips curled into a grin as he propped himself up higher above her. "Maybe put on something cute, eh?" He raised a brow over keen eyes.

Her face became red as a traffic light, and her body seared as he hovered, which she tried to play off nonchalantly, sticking her nose in the air and looking off to the side, away from him. "Or, you could have that half-naked girl put something on for you. If you're into that sort of thing."

Johann chuckled lightly at her words, dismissing them altogether. How adorable was this human, getting so jealous of another woman taking his time away from her, he thought. "Do you feel threatened?"

"No!" she barked, her head still turned off to the side. "Just saying, if you're in to Tits-McGee, maybe you should have had her stay over."

He then made a sudden, efficient move, pushing her knees with his own and positioned himself between both of her legs. Her orbs darted to the man with a devious look upon his face, as he closed in on her bare shoulder, nibbling on it lightly. Her skin raised in bumps once more as her senses heightened. Looking up at her, their eyes met. "Have I not made it clear that I am 'into' you?" he spoke lowly, his breath grazing across her skin for the short moment, before he resumed nipping at her shoulder, moving to her collar bones, and to the nape of her neck. Somehow, he hit a spot then caused her to let out a quiet sigh, which only seemed to encourage him more.

His mouth moved down her form, using his breath to his advantage – when her muscles tightened in anticipation, he met her supple skin with a light graze of his sharp teeth, and he delighted at the feeling of her body curling beneath him as he explored, lifting her shirt and nipping at her ribs and her curves. Coming to her hip, he paused, letting his lips drift across her, until he felt her pelvis rock as something came over her. He answered by flicking his tongue across her skin and raking his teeth frivolously across her hip bone, only to have her thighs clench around him. He tittered at her reactions, soaking them up like a sponge eager to be doused for the first time.

He continued to make his way down, breathing heavily over her thighs and down towards her knee, while his hand trickled down the other side of her curves toward her pelvis. As he ran his tongue and teeth back up her thigh, kissing and nipping in just the right places, his hand slipped under her other leg, wrapping around it tightly. She drew in a deep breath, only for his teeth to come down onto the fleshy part of her inner thigh – and release before it broke skin. Her body went into an engorging spasm as a raspy, labored squeal escaped from her lungs, and her legs constricted around his crown as a hand plunged deep into his locks. Moving his eyes up to her face, he relished in seeing her head tilt backwards as she heaved, his breath hot over her womanhood. ]Sliding his fingers across her hips, they gripped onto the waistband of her shorts, and began to slide them down—only to be interrupted when the fingers twisted within his hair dragged his head up to hers.

Her sparkling eyes were wide, and her face was flushed bright as she exhaled a shaky, nervous breath. Pulling in his bottom lip, he slowly pushed his hips into her, grazing his hard member against her, so he might admire the expression on her face as she gasped in a slight moan. Her fingers burrowed into his mane and back as he did, and he let out a breathy chuckle as he smirked; how much more lovely could a single human be. Her apprehensive eyes darted across his face, and he leaned in close, placing his lips upon hers. A shockwave pulsed through her system, causing her whole body to be tense, but she quickly became enveloped in the moment, and shared in a deep kiss with the man she had been admiring for so long. The feeling of his pelvis push into hers once more caused her to break the embrace as she gasped deeply, her body overwhelmed with a surging feeling.

How he wanted her, this sweet, fragile human; how he wanted to make her his own.

As his hands made their move to begin removing clothing, images of the demon from earlier that morning flashed though her vision, causing her to jolt and push her arms against Johann a tad. He stopped in his tracks, peering down at the girl who was obviously uneasy, and stopped everything.

"I-I'm sorry.." she stuttered quietly.

His eyes softened as he tucked her hair behind her ear, rubbing his gloved thumb across her cheek. "No, its okay," he whispered, hoping to offer the girl some form of reassurance. If it wasn't the time, it wasn't the time; he had waited this long already, so a little longer wouldn't bother him as much as she worried.

She furrowed her brow below him as her eyes drifted off the bed, and her body slumped, defeated. Her chin was then brought up by this thumb and index finger, where he laid a lengthy, soft kiss upon her lips.

(Author: Be patient, my angels~)


	25. Chapter 25, Camp Trials

Chapter 25, Camp Trials

It had been about a week since Ms. Kirigakure became one of the new teachers at the True Cross University, and the head professor of multiple classes. Each day, the men would try not to stare at her tits, while the girls would give her a look of contempt; however, Shima wouldn't even try to hide his interest in the new teachers' form. Something had come over Rin since he got dragged off with her, that day after the ghost hunt, and since then he was even more determined and much more focused on the study work that needed to be done.

The girl continued pursuing her goals, training hard with Yukio and honing her skills as an Aria and Dragoon; but every time the young teacher requested that she practice her Tamer talents, she would freeze up and refuse. Something about the massive black wolf had terrified her even more than before; if he was a high class demon, why was she able to call on him? Why did he vow to protect her? Could she continue to control him, or was he another powerful, unstoppable force like the green haired demon?

She sat around the fire at the makeshift camp, sipping on her malt beer, intensely watching the red flames crackle in the pit. The sound of Shura's babbling laughter caught the girls' attention, only for her to see the redhead pester Yukio, already drunk off her ass, cans strewn about on the forest floor. She had often wondered why this woman had been selected to be the new teacher, taking the place of other, good instructors. Obviously a First Class Exorcist had a lot of knowledge and skill, but so far, she just seemed like a lush.

Shiemi sat chatting quietly with a giggling Rin as they ate, enjoying the late summer evening. Things might not have been completely back to their original standing, between the girl and Rin, but at least the two of them were on speaking terms, and had since apologized for his behavior, telling the girl that he just wanted to be friends. It seemed that since she had turned him down on that summer afternoon, he was instead beginning to realize his own feelings for the sweet Shiemi. It was good, the girl thought; but she had a feeling that the two twins might have similar emotions about the little blonde girl, and during their talks, Shiemi would renounce any suggestion that she may hold romantic feelings for either of the boys.

Yukio stood up from the large circle of exwire's, pushing his drink into the dirt to keep it steady. He explained that the reason for the three-day camp in the woods was to test the cram school students. Each person would depart from the sigil engraved around the camp site, and head into the woods, with only the provisions provided – he plopped a backpack down in front of his feet. He informed the group that there were three lanterns that must be lighted and returned to camp, and those who accomplish this task would earn the right to serve in real combat missions. The class murmured to one another and the teacher buzzed on, and most of them began rummaging through their packs to see what items they were allowed to use: food, water, sleeping supplies, hygiene necessities, a compass, a small torch, a bottle-rocket firework, and a single match. If they were to get into trouble and needed assistance, they could light the firecracker into the air as a signal, or they could try to save the match to light the lantern. The choice was theirs.

The exwire's all stood and prepped themselves, spacing far apart at the edge of the circle while Yukio went over the rules of the trial. Suguro started hollering about how no one could help one another; the girl just rolled her eyes, focused on getting the task done. She was not allowed a gun, so she needed to be as attentive as possible.

With a bang, everyone darted off into the woods, turning on their flashlights as they entered the thick. Thinking quickly, the girl left hers off, hoping to spare the batteries for when it was most necessary, and let her eyes adjust to the moonlight as best as possible. As she jogged through the thickets, maneuvering herself as best as possible, occasionally tripping over a root, or getting tangled up in vines, she felt the faint flutters of wings around her. Stopping in her tracks, she listened, closing her eyes so that they would search no farther through the dark.

"Chuchi demons," she mumbled, waving an arm in the air to keep them away. She repeated the same protective barrier chant that she had used during the ghoul attack, so long ago, and continued on her way.

"I see she's grown quite a bit," an unenthusiastic voice muttered to itself. The demon watched from the treetops, unseen by all the humans below. Moving his blue eyes across the forest floor, he settled on Moriyama. "Oh good, they're planting an egg in her like I ordered. It seems our younger brother has turned his attention to this human—for whatever reason—so this should be fun."

As the girl trudged on through the forest, using her skills as an aria and tamer to ask the spirits of the forest to move some of the branches and thickets that she would have otherwise been unable to get through without a machete, a bright blue flash illuminated off in the distance, lighting up the whole forest. It quickly dissipated, and she stared off into the growing darkness. "I wonder what that was." A fiery, blue light, just like the one's Satan was said to use. Some voices shouted, bouncing off the trees throughout the forest, too far away for her to make out what was being said.

"Oh, there you are, elder brother," the boy said plainly as Mephisto's bat umbrella flapped forcefully. "I was afraid you would miss the show."

"I had things to attend to. How are they doing?" he questioned.

"Your human is doing well enough," he started, a ping in his belly as he referred to the girl in such a way. "But that woman has noticed us—what a nuisance." His eyes shot down at the drunk redhead, sitting in the sigil around the camp, staring up into the night sky.

Feeling a familiar presence, the girl looked up into the darkness around her, wondering what kind of demon it was as she continued on her journey. Coming to a small clearing, the light of the moon shined down brightly on a small building, like an outhouse or a water house. She flicked on her flashlight to get a better look, and that's when she noticed something: It wasn't a building at all, it was the lantern.

"This complicates things a bit…" she sighed as she walked closer, examining the object. It was made of a stucco-like material, and had some engravings on it. It was then that a small beam of light bounced through the trees and into the clearing—Izumo jogged out of the brush and seemed quite shocked to see the girl already by the lantern.

"Isn't this one of those demon lamps?" the girl asked, realizing she had read something about them on a page in her Demonology textbook. Suddenly, Yukio's warning at the beginning of the mission made sense. These types of lanterns had a way of moving themselves once they were lighted, because it signaled the demon that had possessed it that someone was near enough to attack. "Why can I see it?"

"They typically want to be seen, so someone will light it," Izumo started. "After all, you are a girl. It would want you to see it over any man that walked by."

"How are we supposed to move it? Wont it try to eat us?" the girl shuddered a bit at the thought. There was a silence, and when she looked over to Izumo, the girl found that she was staring right at her.

"Can your familiar carry us?" Izumo finally blurted.

The girl's body froze yet again as the thought of summoning the great beast entered her mind, and she found that she was unable to speak any solid words. Her knees began to quiver as she pulled out the summoning paper, uncertainties flooding into her like a dam that had just busted.

Seeing the girl's expression, Izumo put a hand on her shoulder. "It's okay. He protected you before, didn't he? Just be brave." She ended her reassurance with a slight scoff at the end, trying not to get too chummy with the girl she viewed as a spoiled brat.

Nodding, the girl pricked her thumb and smeared the blood across the strip of paper. "O Lord, I ask you to release your bonds, so that your servant may in turn serve me…" her voice trembled weakly as she spoke, and trailed off before she could finish the original chant she had used to summon the demon wolf the first time. The forest grew quiet as the wind died down to nothing.

And then suddenly, the sandstorm came just as it had before, blowing out from the sigil on the scrap of paper like a tornado and into the night sky, until the matter condensed into the great wolf Fenrir. Izumo's flashlight moved up his front leg; was it her, or had the wolf gotten even bigger than before? Stopping on the face of the demon, his eyes sparked at her as he growled lowly, causing Izumo to drop her flashlight to the grassy floor.

"And what do we have here?" Mephisto sneered as he rested his chin in his palm, watching intently as the demon wolf lowered his great head to the girl on the forest floor.

Fenrir was quiet before her, waiting patiently. Izumo abruptly elbowed her, sending the girl's arm flailing out into the air ahead of her, and her hand shook like a leaf. He was still. Perplexed, and humbled, the girl reached out her hand hesitantly, until it rested upon his cold, moist snout, and she beheld in awe at how massive he had become already – just his nose was nearly the size that her outstretched fingers took up. She could feel the start of his soft fur on her fingertips for just a moment, before he withdrew his head, raising it up.

The moon reflected off of his gleaming eyes. "How may I be of service?" the demon asked in a bellowing voice.

"Can you carry us?" the girl stuttered, clasping her hands together.

"Anything for you," he rumbled, resting a front let down on the ground to make it easier for the girls to climb up onto him. Their hands wrapped around his long, course fur as they used it to pull themselves into place.

Izumo then summoned her small fox demons and handed them the match, ordering them to light the lantern and to tail it once it began moving. It should chase after the girls, who would be carried at a much faster pace while aboard of the wolf demon – if however the lantern deviated from following Fenrir, then they should put it out immediately

"Delightful thinking," Mephisto resounded to himself as he sat in the sky, undetected, "using a demons' motivation against itself for their own benefit; bravo, girls!"

The two girls arrived at the camp without incident, and once the lantern crossed the finish line, Izumo's familiars put the light out. Takara was seated by the fire, already finished with getting his own lantern.

"That sure is a beauty," Shura said casually as she approached the girl, eyeing Fenrir carefully, ready to strike at any moment. She wasn't sure how skilled the girl was at taming demons, or how loyal he might have been playing, and she wasn't going to take any risks.

Fenrir's orbs rolled to the woman with red hair, finding her to be a measly human who posed little threat to the girl who he had devoted himself to. Lifting his nose into the air, he began growling lowly, staring into the night sky. Shura smirked, following his line of sight, knowing exactly who he was watching.

"Is he going to be a problem, brother?" Amaimon asked bluntly from the trees.

"Not at all. I told him that if he doesn't stay out of my way, I would have him bound up for eternity this time."

After releasing Fenrir by breaking the seal, and taking some time to relax by the fire with only half of the campers, Rin and his group finally made their way back to the camp as everyone was getting tired. Panting wildly, they were shocked to see that the girls and Takara had already accomplished the task, and Shima flopped to the ground, kissing the dirt. It seemed all was well, and everyone had passed the trial. Rin began going off on an elaborate story about how he defeated the giant moth demon with the help of Suguro, and how he had pulled the cart to camp with his team.

"We just used our familiars," Izumo said bluntly.

"It appears your time has come, Amaimon," Mephisto began. "Now, it took me a lot to allow her to come to this camp in the first place. If I find you so much lay a finger on her, I shall find no greater satisfaction than burying my nails into your eye sockets," he warned with a sharp look. "Do you understand me?"

Amaimon's insides did a flip. "Yes, brother."

"Good. Now go."


	26. Chapter 26, King of Earth

Chapter 26, King of Earth

 _Warning: Language_

The relaxed banter of the camp was abruptly interrupted when the green haired demon slammed to the ground. He quickly released the hobgoblin that followed, and it launched into the camp, where screams of shock sounded from. Despite the amount of alcohol she had consumed, Shura acted fast, pulling a demon sword from her chest and swiping the hobgoblin Behemoth outside of the camp's barriers. The exwire's shrieked as an astral snake emerged from the fire, lighting the sigil that was drawn all around the camp, erupting into great beam up light that shot into the night sky, sending the demons flying. The whole camp was on edge as they shook, fear rising through their veins.

"What was that just now?!" Izumo shouted anxiously.

"Training has ended—we need to prepare for Amaimon's attacks," Shura ordered, pinning her hair up and pulling out some containers of liquid from the camp supplies.

There came a chorus of gasps. Amaimon, the girl repeated to herself. The King of Earth, one of the eight demon kings. She was right all along, she thought, thinking back to the old painting of the demons she had seen at the headmaster's mansion. Which meant that the brother he had spoken of, might've meant brothers – and in which case, there was more than one demon king lingering around True Cross University, the girl thought as she scanned the dark between the trees, hair rising on the back of her neck. The picture was starting to come together in her mind, and it was clear to her now that they were not alone. They were never alone.

Her thought process was abruptly interrupted as ice-cold liquid was strewn all over her body by Shura. "It's holy water," she said plainly as the girl spit out whatever fluid had gotten into her mouth, and wiped away any that was on her eyelids.

"I may have to make her bathe after that," Mephisto chuckled to himself as he sipped his tea, still joyously undetected from the majority of the humans below.

Shura continued to douse each student, only halting when she came to Rin. "Oops, that would have been bad!" she jested, cackling.

The girl looked Rin up and down. Why wouldn't he be splashed with holy water, as well? She, like the rest of the group, had never heard of anyone being allergic to it; after all, it was just water blessed by priests and such – how could anyone have an allergy to water? Wasn't the only thing affected…demons? She eyed the boy strangely as she questioned. It was possible that Shura was making a joke, but if so, why would she not still put holy water on Rin? A plethora of thoughts and questions which would remain unanswered for some time flooded her innermost thoughts, as she scanned the surroundings, waiting for the King of Earth to return.

"Shiemi?" she started, watching the dazed blonde walk towards the edge of the barrier. There came no answer. What the hell was she doing?! "Guys—Shiemi?!" she shouted, trying to get everyone's attention, including her shy friend who seemed to have no idea where she was going as she lumbered towards the woods. Everyone at the camp turned to see what the girl was making a fuss about, only to catch the sight of Moriyama stepping just out of the sigil barrier. Before anyone had the chance to do anything, the green haired Amaimon swooped down, plucking her up from the ground. The girl watched in horror as his arms sizzled a bit as they wrapped around the blonde.

Shura tried to hold Rin back to no avail—he launched into the forest after the demon king, growling ferociously through gritted teeth. Amaimon's Behemoth came bounding after Rin, and Shura smacked it off course once again. "Run!" she screamed at Rin, knowing that he was the best bet at the moment to reclaim Shiemi.

After watching Rin and Shura dart off into the dark, Suguro clenched his fists tight with anger, finding it unbelievable that Okumura was doing it again – running off and risking his life, all on his own, without enlisting the help of his friends. He couldn't believe it, how dare he, he grumbled to himself. The group watched in horror as the demon king kicked Rin in the ribs, sending the boy flying through the air and crashing into rocks in the distance. And like a bomb ready to explode, Suguro sped off after them, determined to help Rin whether he liked it or not. Shima tried to reason with him as best he could through the fear, only to be pushed aside; and out of concern for their Bon, he and Konekomaru chased after as well.

"Fucking idiots!" the girl screamed as she shook inside of her skin. They stood no chance against a demon king; as Shura had said, even a most experienced exorcist would have an extremely difficult time defeating a demon like Amaimon. The only armed exwire was Rin – how in the world were the three boys supposed to protect themselves against such a high class demon? Kicking into a survival mode, the girl began rummaging through some of the absent Yukio's things, until she wrapped her hands around a cold pistol, packed away neatly with two clips of bullets, as a spare in case of emergency. The sound of Izumo's babbling caught her attention as she loaded a clip into the firearm.

Nearing tears, Izumo wailed how she didn't want to die. "Not here, not today…"

Sighing, the girl returned to Izumo, who was slumped down to her knees, streams of tears rolling down her face. She might have been one of the most abrasive people the girl had ever met, but she couldn't stand to see anyone so upset. Placing a hand on her shoulder, the girl tried to console her, but the words were a hard reach through the many emotions and thoughts racing through her at the time. "Hey, don't worry. Be brave." That was all she could manage. They might end up actually dying on that night, and all she could muster up was 'be brave.' It sounded silly in her own head, but the way Izumo had stopped sobbing, and looked at her with large eyes, made it seem like it was best words ever strung together by any adviser in the history of warfare. The girl smiled as warmly as she could in that moment.

Suddenly, the sky illuminated with the same blue light as before, only this time the light exploded and roared into towering flames. It must have been the demon king, the girl thought; there was no other logical explanation. The demon king's were sons of Satan, after all—so it had to have been Amaimon. Her heart pounded as her feet began to take up speed, pulling her into the woods and towards the direction of Shura, for what reasons even she wasn't entirely sure. She ran through the thick brush until she heard the clang of metal before her. Raising the gun, she planted a bullet within the hobgoblin right as it was about to land a blow on the redheaded woman, which sent it flying backwards. Shura hastily turned to face the girl, disappointed that it wasn't Yukio coming to her aide.

"You need to get out of here!" Shura shouted, resuming her attention to the behemoth as it leapt at her once more. Its claws met with her sharp sword with another clang, before it was pushed away again. The sounds of trees being ripped from the ground echoed through the forest, where Amaimon and Rin battled.

The girl aimed down the sights and shot three rounds towards the demon as it scampered across the ground, dodging the bullets; her hands shook as she took in the demon's form. Why was she starting to see so many demons? "You said that demon is Amaimon?" she shouted, dodging swipe from the hobgoblin. Part of her didn't know why she had asked. Maybe she had heard it wrong; maybe she wanted to be wrong.

Shura bore down with a great swing, only for the demon to bounce away. "Yep, that son of a bitch is definitely here to play," she snarled, a lively smirk tugging at the corner of her lips, figuring it was probably all part of Mephisto's scheming.

To play. Like these humans were just mere toys for his entertainment. Spinning tops, bouncy balls, punching bags; they were as ants, carefully tunneling through the shit of life to craft their civilization, only for some child to come by with a magnifying glass, kicking everything they had worked so hard for until it toppled and collapsed. She fired more rounds, landing a few hits on behemoth. Amaimon was doing exactly as he told her he would – he was here to play with his brother. Who? According to him, the presence she had felt ever since she was a child was supposed to be his brother. What brother? He had many, all of them being demon kings.

"What other demons are here, Ms. Kirigakure?" the girl finally snapped with a cold look in her eye.

Shura smirked as she swung. "It sounds like you need to do more research, girl."

The way the redhead put it, it sounded as if she knew. The girl froze. Do more research, like the answers were right in front of her, if only she looked a little harder? It became clear to her that Shura knew more than she was letting on, and keeping everyone else in the dark about it.

"Watch out!" Shura screeched, whirling around as behemoth bounded toward the girl as she was lost in thought. As it nearly came down on her, Shura managed to land a double-barreled kick, sending it into the trees. "You're going to get yourself killed out here!" she chastised as the hobgoblin got back up to its feet, it's eyes locking back onto the girl.

"Well that won't do; run along now, beast, that's enough of you," Mephisto mumbled, snapping his fingers. The behemoth halted for a split second, as if it has been electrocuted, and then quickly turned and scampered deep into the forest.

Wiping her face, Shura turned back to the girl, her blood boiling. This girl was not ready for any combat, she thought to herself as the young one fell to her knees, a defeated look plastered on her face. "Get to safety."

"B-but—" the girl began in a feeble protest.

"That's an order!" Shura yelled as she stood. "Get as far away as you can!"


	27. Chapter 27, Interrogation

Chapter 27. Interrogation.

The girl sprinted through the woods as it burned brighter and brighter by the second, heading towards the True Cross campus on lightning feet, tripping over roots and getting smacked in the face by branches as she went. There was no one around, no one to answer her calls as she screamed at the top of her lungs in a panic. She had no idea what had become of her fellow classmates, or her two teachers; she had one order, to get to safety, and the forest around her was not safe. Somewhere out there, the demon king was probably still alive and well, burning the forest and every living creature in it. It was possible that he had massacred every one of her friends already, and the fire raged with anger and hate as it spread out across the vegetation, dried out from the long summer.

Why did she want to do this? Why did she want to become an exorcist? To feel validated in the existence of demons? She had seen the faces of them now. Of the hobgoblin, of Fenrir, of the King of Earth. These creatures were nothing to fool around with; she could have been killed herself. So then why, she asked herself, why did she freeze up when the behemoth lunged at her? Why couldn't she attack? Was she hoping that it would injure her enough to give her the power to see all demons, out of some false hope that not every demon was as terrifying as those she had been cursed to interact with? Or was she hoping, deep down somewhere, that it would end her?

She wiped away the tears that welled up in her eyes as she ran, feeling more alone than she had ever felt in her entire life. There was an empty pit in her, as if all the childish hopes and dreams she had ever had as a young girl were ripped out by the sharp, black nails of a demon. They were ripped out and devoured, and she was cast aside like nothing; and that's all she or any human were to demons like this – nothing. How could she have been so foolish, she wondered, thinking back to what she had told Johann on that walk through the woods. He told her that her views were beautiful, but in this moment, as the pitter-patter of her feet became lost in the crackling roar of the fire which burned hot on her heels, she knew that she indeed was naive.

The street lights shined through the gaps in the tree trunks like the gates to heaven, and she wept as the branches ripped through her flesh on her way to freedom. Her feet continued to carry her across the pavement as fast as they could, until the fear of death gave way to the overwhelming feeling of guilt and mourning. She scraped her knees as she fell, collapsing into her hands as she sobbed. She has escaped the fire, but would she ever, truly be free from this? From whatever plagued her since she was a child?

The knocking of boots on the pavement caused her to look up, and she wiped her eyes clean as she beheld two exorcists coming for her. She sniffled for a moment, only to burst into tears once again as they approached. One squatted down to the ground by her, and brushed the soot from her forehead, handing her a handkerchief.

"It's okay, exwire, we're here for you."

"B-but my friends," she blubbered, hiding her face under the fabric.

"They're safe." The tears suddenly stopped pouring and her eyes grew wide at this news. "Come on now," he said as he stood, helping her to her own feet.

The other man pulled out a gold key while they walked over to a shed on the side of the street. "We have orders to bring you in for questioning," he said sternly as he opened the door to a great room.

She was led through a large hallway and then plopped down onto a chair in a small room, where the door creaked as it shut and locked as they left. It was empty, besides the chair she sat in, and a wooden table that was in front of her; another chair sat on the other side, just opposite to her. There were no clocks to give her an idea of how much time had passed, but the exhaustion from the night had finally swept over her body, claiming her.

The sound of the door opening once more woke her from the light sleep, and she pulled her head up from the wooden table to see three men enter the room – two of them, the exorcists which had delivered her, and another who she had never seen before. The two middle class exorcists stood at each side of the empty chair as the new man hobbled his way into the room. The chair made a godawful noise as it skidded across the stone floor, and he sat down carefully. He thumbed through the papers on his clipboard for a while, sitting in silence.

He was an elderly man with a large belly, who bore the ring of the Vatican on his shriveled finger. Finally, he looked up to the girl, adjusting his glasses and letting out a labored sigh. "I'm Upper First Class exorcist, Eraldo Amantini. I would like to ask you a few questions, is that alright?"

She gave one nod. Why an Upper First Class exorcist, she wondered.

"Do you need anything? Water, perhaps?"

"That would be fine, thank you."

He nodded to one of the middle class exorcists, the loose skin of his neck jiggling with the motion. The man quietly left the room, and Amantini continued. "What do you remember of the events that took place, on this day?"

"Um, well," she started hesitantly, blinking. "We, our cram school class that is, went out to the forest district for a test—"

"Forest district? Of true cross academy?" he asked, looking up from his spectacles. After a nod from her, he began writing something down on the piece of paper. "Go on."

"Well, we went there for a test, to see who would be able to go on to combat missions, and then a demon attacked us."

"The demon being who, exactly?"

"Ms. Kirigakure said it was Amaimon, King of Earth," she answered matter-of-factly, folding her hands in her lap.

He scribbled more on the paper. "Describe him to me."

She cleared her throat. "H-he had green hair that came to a point on his head. And wore strange clothing—like a tattered jacket and arm warmers. He had blue eyes, which shined kind of gold in some lighting," she spoke as she remembered the times the demon had come to her. The sounds of the pen on paper stopped. "And he was probably under five-foot-ten, I'd say."

Amantini studied her face before he spoke. "Have you seen this demon before today?"

Freezing, she realized her mistake. How could she have noticed some of those features in the midst of an attack!? She tried to hide her faulting voice as she spoke. "N-no, sir. I have not."

His pupils stayed on her for a while as she attempted to keep a straight, relaxed face. "Have you received your temptaint yet?"

She was a bit shocked for this question to be asked. "N-no sir, I have not," she repeated, studying the man before her. What was he getting at, she wondered.

Amantini leaned back in his chair. "Tell me of your relationship with the True Cross director, Honorary Knight Johann Faust V," he finally said, picking over each word carefully while he eyed her under bagged lids.

She could feel her face begin to turn red, and her heartbeat quickened. Did they know something? "H-he's my principal, and an acquaintance," she stammered, glancing down at the table. The middle class exorcist entered the room and set a glass of water on the table, which she graciously took a drink of, realizing just how thirsty she was after running for her life.

"But the two of you spend much time together, do you not?" he asked, tapping his pen on his knee. He watched the girl as she drank half of the glass, and smiled when she set it back down. She nodded slowly. "Has he ever confided in you, ever told you any...secrets?"

"I—I don't understand, sir," she snapped, perplexed.

Amantini sat forward, folding his fat, wrinkled fingers together onto the table. "Has he ever told you anything which might seem important for the Order to know?"

"Answer him, girl!" the stern exorcist demanded.

"This is important that you tell us—Faust is currently being questioned by the Vatican for treason," came the voice of the exorcist who handed her the handkerchief.

Her eyes grew wide. "Treason?! What are you—what has he done?!" she asked hastily, her gaze bouncing from one man's face to the other, worried about her director. Surely there was a mistake.

"You can't ask questions here, only answer them," one of the exorcists grumbled as he slammed his hands on the desk. "Answer your Senior immediately."

Her gaze moved back to Amantini, who was still staring deep into her. She cleared her throat, trying to regain composure. These men could be asking any questions, and they chose to ask about some strange secrets? The only thing secret was Amaimon, and the nature of her and Faust's interactions, which had bloomed into something no less than romantic. She spoke clearly. "No sir. Not that I am aware of."


	28. Chapter 28, The Truth Revealed

Chapter 28, The Truth Revealed

 _Warning: Language_

After a series of thorough questions by the three exorcists, including them asking where she was on the day that the demon attacked the True Cross Town amusement park, the interrogation eventually lead back to the events of the day, where they had the girl recite every detail that had happened in the forest, from when they arrived to set up, all the way until she was found in the street. She denied ever having seen Amaimon before, and denied any allegations that she and the director were involved in any sort of way beyond friendly. The old man continued to eye her, as if he speculated that she was in on whatever Faust might be scheming behind the back of the Order. She wasn't allowed to ask anything, not even where she was; she could only sit, listen, and obey for hours on end. She was completely unaware of what had happened with everyone, and only knew that they were alive, and Faust was taken by the Vatican—for treason charges.

Once she was dismissed, the two men escorted her through a door using another key. She was exhausted, and still had no idea what time it was. They walked through yet another hall inside of a large, dreary building, passing by windows where the light of the morning sun could be seen. Stopping in front of a plain door, the two men bowed and dismissed themselves, leaving back through where they had come with the key.

She watched quietly until they were out of sight. The door clicked shut, and seemed to echo throughout the empty halls in a way that mirrored the dismay within her own heart. She felt lost and helpless, like a child. Not only did she have no idea where she had been for hours, and now she was left somewhere else that was completely unknown to her, but she had been completely useless in combat, not to mention, foolish and naïve.

Taking a breath, she turned the handle and pushed open the door in front of her.

Sitting inside were all of the cram school students, who's injuries had been patched up. Suguro, Shima, and Konekomaru were in their own cots recovering, and Izumo sat in a chair, relatively unscathed. Shiemi sat near the wall with a dour expression, and in the corner was Yukio. The men hadn't lied to her; her friends were indeed alive. Tears began to well up in her eyes, and her throat grew too tight to say a word as everyone looked her way with an expression of shock and relief wrapped into one. Before anyone could say anything, she burst into tears and ran into the room, falling into the comforting arms of Shiemi, who held her tightly, humming and stroking the girl's hair. They themselves had no idea where she had been, and feared the worst, so seeing her puffy red face liberated their minds of such terrible thoughts.

After she calmed down, she looked around the room again, sniffling and smiling as her cheeks turned pink with embarrassment. "I'm sorry," she spat, feeling like an idiot. "I'm just so happy you're all alive!" she yelped, voice cracking with emotion once more. Everyone smiled warmly as they got up, and they all exchanged hugs of rejoice. Even Izumo hugged the girl, though she tried to play it off nonchalantly.

Looking around, she finally could see past the cloud of her own mind and noticed that Rin was missing, and there was a heavy feeling bearing down on everyone. "Where's Rin?" she asked, searching each face for answers, only to find every eye would look away as she met them. "Did something happen to Rin?!" she shrieked, spinning to Yukio's somber expression. Something happened, and no one was telling her.

Yukio held out his hand and motioned for her to come with him. "There's something I need to tell you.." his voice was thick with explanations, the kind that wasn't anything to look forward too. He ushered her out the door to the halls, staying silent. They walked for a bit, their footsteps bouncing off the walls, becoming lost within the noiseless atmosphere. "I need to tell you something, and I want you to hear it from me first."

Her stomach churned. "Yukio. I can't take it, I can't," she begged, exhaustion taking over once more. "Please be straight with me. Was Rin killed?"

He twisted his head around to look at her with a baffled expression. "No!" he shouted, wondering how on earth she could jump to such conclusions.

"Then what?!"

The young teacher stood silent for a moment, collecting his words. "Years ago, Satan killed a massive amount of people in what was to become known as the Blue Night. On that day, Satan's newest children were born." He kept his head low, staring at the tiles on the floor. "They were twin boys. And only one of them inherited the blue flames of his father." He glanced up for just a second to assess the girl, finding a look of sudden, shocking comprehension as things were piecing together in her mind.

"So Rin is…a demon?" she asked, rather casually. She, unlike most of the other students, had never even questioned the shape of Rin's ears, or his sharp canines. Plenty of people she had known throughout her life had similar features; childhood friends, ex boyfriends, even Johann. She had always assumed it was genetics, and still didn't link the two together.

"The son of Satan, yes. His powers were awoken just this year, before that, he didn't even know what he was. We've kept it under wraps for all these months as per the orders of the director. But tonight, when Amaimon attacked, Rin had to use his powers."

It was starting to make sense, finally. Amaimon, the King of Earth, had come to play with his brother – he must have meant Rin. "Where is he?"

"He was taken by the Vatican as evidence of Sir Ph-Faust's…betrayal of the Order."

That's right, Johann – "Why is he being tried for treason?"

He seemed rather shocked that she knew this information, but continued. "He and our father - Rin and I's adoptive father - have apparently been conspiring since we were born. They kept our identities as the sons of Satan a secret from the Vatican."

"But why?"

His heart thumped as the words were on the tip of his tongue. He might have been ordered by Pheles to keep his identity a secret, but watching this girl become so close to him was eating him inside. He could barely handle it anymore, and it was about to burst out of him just as hard as his heart was pounding in his chest. "You don't know who he really is," he finally snapped.

Taken aback by his answer, she met it with an air of hostility as her lips coiled. "What the hell are you talking about Yukio?"

"Faust is a powerful, deceptive man," he began hastily, trembling slightly at his own words. "His name, Faust, is just an alias for Christs' sake—he also goes by Mephisto Pheles."

The look of scornful disbelief was completely wiped off of her face as he said that name. Memories came flooding back to her, like the time she overheard Rin carelessly spout the name while they were on the phone together. And then...'Mephisto.' She had said it before. She had said it to him. The look of Johann's surprised expression flashed into her mind. How could she have forgotten asking him about that name? Had she really been that drunk? What was his response when she confronted him, she asked herself. It was there, somewhere; hazy. "Yukio," she started slowly, staring off to the side with a deer-in-the-headlights look. "Why the hell is his name the same as the demon, Mephistopheles, from the old German tale?"

Shit, he thought as he froze – she's been studying.

And then as the memory came back, the two of them said in unison: "He has many names."

She felt sick to her stomach, and leaned up against the wall, letting a long breath out slowly. Everything began to twirl around her, like the demon playing games again.

"M-Mephisto Pheles is also an alias," Yukio stuttered, cursing to himself inside. "There's just a lot you don't know about him. You need to be careful," he stressed, knowing he couldn't tell her everything, but he could tell her enough. "He's the one who gave the order to postpone your Temptaint Ritual."

A lightning bolt of shock and anger zapped through her muscles. "What the fuck did you just say?"

"Pheles forbade anyone from giving you a temptaint. I don't know why, but he did. He has his hand in everything."


	29. Chapter 29, Distant

Chapter 29, Distant.

"She's been avoiding me," Pheles spoke thickly as he thumbed through some files, not bothering to look up at the young man seated in front of his desk. "My sources tell me that you went into the hall to talk to her after everything last week—would you mind telling me what that conversation entailed?" he asked, glancing up from under dark, tired lids.

Yukio shifted in his seat. The man before him seemed unlike his usual self, as he enfolded himself sluggishly into his work; he was noticeably somber as of late. "I only told her the truth, Sir."

Pulling a file, he began flipping through the pieces of paper. "The truth about what, exactly?"

The young teacher squirmed inside. "About Rin and myself. She knows what every other student does." There was a pause as both of the men sat in silence. Yukio waited for a response which never seemed to come, while taking in the slumped figure before him as it concentrated on the papers vacantly. Was it possible that she meant that much to him? Yukio couldn't help but to wonder. "I wouldn't take it so personally, Sir Pheles. She's been distant with everyone." The words just started falling out of his mouth. Maybe to cover up what he had done. Maybe as a sort of make-shift way to console what appeared to be someone hurting. "Everyone has been avoiding Rin, but I don't think she has even been in the same room as him since she found out. She barely even speaks during our tutoring sessions—perhaps she's just in shock, is all."

Dreary green eyes moved up from the paper gradually until they met with the serious face of Yukio. It made sense to him finally, in a roundabout way, that the events which took place could have affected her enough to cause her to estrange herself; he frequently misunderstood the fickle emotions of humans. She had stopped coming to the mansion, she turned the other way when she saw him, she stopped returning phone calls—and if what Okumura was saying was true, then she was doing similar things with everyone, completely alienating herself. If such was the case, he thought, he must make a greater effort to comfort and reassure her to try to bring her back, as lately he found he couldn't think straight.

Letting his strained pupils fall back down at the file in his hand, his gaze rested on a date. It was a long shot. "Her birthday is coming up very shortly, perhaps we should get everyone together."

* * *

A cool breeze rolled in noiselessly through the cracked window, sending a shiver up her body as she dozed through one of the most satisfying nights of sleep she had since everything happened.

The days, and especially the nights, since the forest incident had been torturous for her; the events that had taken place replayed in her mind, like a shark circling her in a dark, stormy sea. She had unknowingly began to remove herself from the group of friends, only coming to tutoring sessions with Yukio where she would brush off most attempts he had at small talk. Shiemi had tried to reach out to the girl to ask her about how to deal with Rin being a demon, but had no such luck when it came to a reply. She had quickly fallen callous and unfeeling, or perhaps feeling too much at one time, as she walked through her University and Cram courses like a zombie. She dove into her studies, and yet she couldn't concentrate; she had no indication as to why she was continuing to try so hard. Maybe, because it was something to immerse herself into, to distract her from the emptiness she felt. Though, thoughts of dropping out of the exorcist cram school program wracked her brain every night that she spent alone, lying awake in bed, staring at the cold hard moon that hovered in the sky like a lightbulb that wouldn't go off no matter how hard she shut her eyes.

She wasn't alone; everyone was feeling this empty sense of betrayal, and a disordered anger which had no direction in which it should go. There was nowhere to relieve it. It was just there, lingering, pulling down on everyone. Everything felt like a lie, especially to the girl.

Pheles, thinking that she was just a tad traumatized after being attacked by a demon, and learning that her classmate was also a demon, tried multiple times to get back on her good graces. He would have little tokens or gifts delivered to her, and on a couple occasions he had managed to see her in person and deliver it himself—be it a new tea for her to try, or even that thing that she had been talking about wanting for months but never having enough money to blow on it. They were always met with the same expression had he delivered the item himself; a warm smile, hiding hollow eyes. They ended up being piled on the table in her dorm, where she could barely make herself look at them.

After a few of these exchanged seemingly getting nowhere, flowers started being sent anonymously to her classes throughout the day. They started off as small, single flowers, until they became extravagant, monstrous bouquets. Her classmates would ogle, and question who the secret admirer could be – and although she knew the face, she didn't have a name to call him. All she knew was that there were still parts of her which longed for things to return to the way they had been before. Ignorance is bliss, sometimes.

On the orders of Pheles, the group of cram school students banded together to plan a party. Not specifically for her birthday, as it would not be on the girl's actual birth date, and it would be too obvious. It was to be a surprise, and to get everyone's mind off of the gloom that had befallen the exorcists. It was to be just fun, games, drinks, music, in a calm and enjoyable atmosphere – anything to lighten the mood. The class set up a rendezvous, where Yukio would have the girl meet him for tutoring in one of the large classrooms, and then they would bombard her, not giving her the option of leaving before a genuine smile spread across her face.

And so, it went according to plan; she went to the classroom, thinking she was to meet her instructor for a new lesson, only to be shocked when she opened the door to find her classmates hollering, laughing, and dragging her inside for the festivities. She had to admit to herself that the sentiment was rather charming, and perhaps she had been too boorish, too in her head, so she tried to enjoy the time with friends. After all, it wasn't their fault that she was feeling such a way – she figured, she should make more of an effort to let them know how much they did mean to her. Lining her stomach and liver with drinks, she felt much more open, able to feel again, laugh again, if only for the time being. And the deeper she got into each bottle, the more she was able to open up to Pheles, who followed her like a lost puppy who was too proud to admit he was indeed lost.

Another chill blew in through the window, causing her to shiver just a bit. She wrapped her arms around a warm pillow and nuzzled into it deeply, not ready to wake from such a magnificent slumber. Maybe it was the alcohol that had let her sleep so soundly, maybe it was the slow and steady release of the negativity that she was holding onto for the couple of weeks; but she hadn't slept so well since before the forest camp, and she tried as hard as she could to revel in how wonderful sleep was.

It wasn't until she heard a faint chuckle that her eyes snapped open, and she realized that whatever she was snuggling into was definitely not a pillow.

Backing away, she noticed flesh, and as her orbs drifted upwards, she saw Mephisto – his head resting against his knuckles, gazing down at her with deep, green eyes. A jolt ran up her spine, and she bolted away, skidding across the mattress.

"Why so alarmed?" he asked, tucking his robe in to close up the gap where his bare chest had been exposed.

Her eyes darted down to her own body, and she let out a sigh of relief to see she indeed had clothing on. If she didn't remember coming here after the party, who knows what happened. "W-we didn't…" she stammered, suggesting the rest of her question with her eyes.

He laughed at the implication as he sat up. "No, I'm afraid not. I wouldn't take advantage of a drunken girl," he assured her. "We just cuddled a bit."

A rosy dusting kissed her cheekbones, and he couldn't help but to admire her beauty as her tussled hair fell around her face and shoulders. Something about her being so guarded made him pine for her even more.

"It was nice," his voice trailed off while his eyes searched her face for something – anything. He cleared his throat. "I've missed you."

A silence fell between them as they looked one another in the eyes from two opposite sides of the bed. There might not have been that much space between them in reality, but in that moment, it felt like a vast ocean separated the two. It was true that she missed him as well, but how could she possibly say that? Her lips tugged at one another as words were on the tip of her tongue, but they wouldn't open up to the man miles away, right in front of her. Taking notice of the uncertainty which plagued her, he began to move across the bed slowly while keeping his eyes on hers, ready to stop if he felt her pull. He struggled to breathe as he swam such a great distance towards the fortress on the other side. And as he got within reach, he slowly brought up his arms, placing them on her shoulders lightly. He tried to look her in the eyes, but she wouldn't meet them. Instead, she quivered beneath his touch, recoiling with skepticism, and he knew there was nothing else he could do in the moment; he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her in close. He could feel her jaw clatter against his neck as the emotion rose within her belly like the fire of a dragon trying to protect its hoard of treasure.

"I won't let anything happen to you," he whispered, burying his face in her hair.

And then, despite how well she had reinforced it, despite how many layers of cement she had applied, the dam broke, and her emotions spewed as she clung to the man for dear life. It seemed pointless to try to keep him out. Whoever he was, she didn't want to care as much as she had. A large part of her just wanted things to go back to the way they were; just wanted him. But there was still something, maybe the logical, the reasoned part of her, which tried to tell her to push him away. But her heart wouldn't listen, not anymore, not after being this close once again. He had won.

Pulling her head up by the chin and wiping away the beads of tears which cascaded down her cheeks, he pressed his lips to hers tenderly, silencing whatever fears and doubts lingered within her.

"Shall I draw you a bath and have breakfast started?" he asked softly, wiping a lone tear that had escaped from her glistening eyes. She let out a halfhearted laugh and nodded, and he responded by scooping her up into his arms and carrying her to the extravagant bathroom.

She watched him quietly as he ran the water and added bubbles for her. Once it got full enough, he walked back over to her, and slowly began unbuttoning the wrinkled uniform she had fallen asleep in. His fingers carefully made their way down as the shirt parted, exposing her breasts. He tried to play off his interest, and looked back up to her face for approval to keep going. She was pink, but didn't protest; his hands continued down the buttons until the shirt was completely open. He let out a wary exhale as he slipped it off over her shoulders, trying not to draw attention to how much of her body he was taking in. He moved to her skirt, unzipping it from her hip, and clung to it before it could slip to the ground. Kneeling, he brought the skirt down himself, straining to keep his attention on the task. The fabric fell to the marble floor, and he paused for a moment as he stared at the uniform on the ground, fighting the urge to look up. Slowly, he touched her calf, and traced the outline of her leg all the way up to her thighs. His fingers wrapped around the top of her single stocking, as the other must have come off during the night, and he gradually pulled it down, exposing the supple skin beneath it. As he dragged it down, she brought up her leg so that he might pluck it off of her toes, her knee brushed up against his hair. He paused, letting his face fall into her with a sigh as he closed his eyes, wrapping his fingers around the leg she had offered him. There was nothing more he wanted than to take her in completely.

Grazing his hands along the edges of her figure as he stood, he met her face with his, enfolding his arms around her back as he kissed her deeply. She stopped, placing her hands against his chest before it could go too far, and he pursed his lips as he looked down, nodding slightly, understanding that she had just let him back in.

The two parted, and before he shut the door, he caught a glimpse of her bare figure stepping into the bath, her long hair cascading down her back.


	30. Chapter 30, Bitter Tongues

Chapter 30, Bitter Tongues.

 _Warning: Language_

The bath was as warm as her heart as she soaked, a happiness blooming inside her once again. Maybe, she thought, she could get past how he had mislead her, and the two of them could come together and move on, being completely open and honest with one another. She would have to confront him about everything, she realized, trying to plan out how to bring it up, and ask him who he actually was. There could be so many ways it could go wrong, she thought. She decided that she would bring it up over breakfast.

The water drained slowly as she brushed her hair, echoing off of the walls, causing her to notice how quiet the mansion had become. Wrapping a towel around herself, she walked out into the empty bedroom, and then down the stairs, where she found it was also empty. The breakfast that the director had prepared for her sat out on the dining table, a note was folded in half and propped up with her name scribbled quickly on the front.

Grabbing the plate, she flipped open the note only to find that something urgent had come up, and he had to leave to meet with officials of the Order.

Of course. After all, he was a busy man. She wasn't always going to get to eat with him, much less get to talk to him about important topics. There would be plenty of times that he would need to leave suddenly, leaving her alone, just as she was. He was always running off to handle business, whatever it entailed. She would always have to wait for when he had the time for anything, but it especially bothered her because the talk she wanted to have was now postponed, and she wanted it done and over with.

After finishing her meal, she went to the closet in the guest room, which still had some of her personal clothing as well as clothing Faust—or Pheles—had purchased for her over the months they had become close. She grabbed a clean uniform and headed back into the guest bedroom, tossing her things onto the bed.

Just as she was ready to drop her towel, something pushed her onto the bed.

The initial thought was that Mephisto had been playing with her and only pretending that he had left, and so she laughed with her face in the comforter, telling him to get off. When there was no reply, and the mass above her didn't budge, her heart surged. Frantically she thrashed; her arms and legs striking out as she twisted beneath whatever or whoever it was until she was nearly on her back. When she tried to cry out, a hand with sharp nails pressed over her mouth, silencing her as she wined. Reluctantly, she cracked open her lids, fearing the worst, only to see Amaimon above her, holding her down. He held a long finger up to his lips as a way to tell her to be quiet, and he slowly released his hand from her mouth when she relaxed.

"What are you doing here?" she spat like a snake, scowling.

He appeared almost as if he had been crying. "I needed to see you," he blubbered, wrapping himself around her and clinging on tightly.

"Let go of me!" she yelled, trying to pry the demon from her body, the towel that was wrapped around it slipping from becoming loose.

"No!" Amaimon cried. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you!" Mephisto had chastised him for causing the girl so much undue stress after the incident in the forest, and Amaimon, usually one of the most unfeeling of the demon kings, felt horrible for doing such to this human. Her heart was beating as fast as it could into his ear as he was pressed to her barely-covered chest. She was warm, and he squeezed her firmly, nuzzling into her more every time she pushed.

After failing to get him to even budge, she sighed, frustrated. "What do you want, demon?" she hissed. In truth, he didn't particularly scare her, but he nearly killed all of her friends and then some, all because he wanted to play with his 'brother' Rin. She had completely misjudged him, and regretted ever making any sort of deal with him.

His watery blue eyes looked up to her. "You! I want you! And he's mocking me, throwing it in my face, every time he touches you!" He was frantic, and her stomach churned inside of her.

What the hell—"What are you talking about?!" she shrieked. "I'm going to start screaming, someone will hear me. Get off of me!"

"No, please don't, brother can't know!" he sniveled. Something about her made him feel alive; something he had only previously felt during the heat of combat. However, the feeling would die off with his foes, only lingering for a short while afterwards—but she was a constant.

"Brother, brother, brother – is that all you talk about?" she snarled, glowering at him.

He sniffled, looking at her with deep blue wells. "It's just not fair!" he cried before grabbing her on both sides of the face and pushing his lips to hers, holding himself on her for a moment before retreating. The warm feeling came once again, but this time stronger, flowing throughout his whole body; a sensation he had never felt before. He looked her over, taking in the look of surprise in her large, beautiful eyes.

She spat in his face. Clearly she had given this demon the wrong idea, and the curiosity she had in the beginning had only fallen through to revulsion. "Amaimon," she snapped, the fire of hatred deep in her pupils as she stared him down. "Get off of me."

Amaimon snapped his mouth shut tight and then slowly backed off of her, listening intently. She stood, re-wrapping the towel around herself to secure it before she looked him in the eye again, scowling. "Leave, and don't ever come to me again."

The demon's lip shook as tears welled up in his eyes once more, and then he vanished.

* * *

She sat in class, her head slumped in her palm as she doodled in her notebook. Classes had been slow since Rin had taken over private lessons with Shura and Yukio – it had something to do with the Vatican's orders, and some sort of timeline. She wasn't all too certain, since she had only heard it through the grapevine. No one was really talking to Rin, the Son of Satan, yet, and she had very little interest in dealing with these Demon Kings. However, it was conflicting; Rin was one of her friends, and even though they had been through a phase where they barely talked, she still cared for him. And yet, she now had seen the wrath and ferocity of these beings. Rin started the forest fire. Those blue flames that engulfed the shrubs and trees, the flames that could have killed her that night, were Rin's flames. She wasn't ready to talk to him. Plus, she wondered, pushing her pen deeply into the paper, why were two demons the ones who tried to make some sort of advance on her? She bit her bottom lip as she scowled, thinking about Amaimon earlier that morning.

Fucking demons.

Bon, Shima, and Konekomaru were chatting fiercely about something while Bon was repeatedly calling someone and unable to get them to pick up. She watched in silence, hoping everything was okay. The door clicked open, and everyone sat up attentively, only to see the director stroll into the classroom, his hands behind his back, announcing his congratulations to the exwire's for earning their right to participate in combat missions. "I would like you to join the expedition to Kyoto!" he announced happily.

Everyone was shocked. What kind of expedition did he mean? The girl thought back to the note he had left her that morning. Something urgent came up. Did Kyoto have anything to do with that?

Pheles went on to explain that there was a dire situation in Kyoto which required the attention of capable exorcists, and he was proud to say that the class of first year exwire's were perfectly capable to join. He leered over to Suguro's direction, knowing more than he was letting on.

"Please – return to your dorms immediately, and begin packing! You will all meet at the train station early tomorrow morning!" he announced before leaving.

Suguro jumped from his seat and bounded out of the door, Shima and Miwa pursuing closely behind. Izumo collected her things, and left without a word. Shiemi waited by the doorway for the girl to walk out with her. "What do you think the mission is?" she asked as their footfalls echoed through the halls.

"Sounds like its expected there will be some fighting," the girl said, thinking deeply on what it could be, if it was so urgent. "I'm going to head back and pack, I'll see you in the morning."

* * *

She was lost in thought as she tossed clothing into dufflebags for the trip. They weren't told how many days they would be gone, so she packed extra just in case. Her mind was bouncing everywhere – where things were headed with Johann, she still needed to have a chat with him, Amaimon pissing her off, and the potential demon that they were getting prepared to fight. Was she ready to fight a demon? She was useless at the camp. But a large part of her was relatively excited – the outcome might be different if they weren't fighting a demon king.

There was a familiar knock.

She set her toothbrush into the bag as she moved to the door, and when she opened it, the man she had known for months as Johann stood with a flower in his hand, which he held out for her. There was a little spin in her stomach as she took it and let him in. "I'm glad you're here," she said, setting the flower in a glass of water. "I wanted to ask you about the mission." She'll open with something more casual before getting down to business about his deception, she thought quickly.

He stood near the door, quiet.

"What's going on exactly? Was that why you had to leave this morning?" she asked, turning back to him. He only nodded. "I figured," she said, returning to her bag in the bathroom to resume her packing. "I'm actually a bit excited to go."

He cleared his throat as he stepped closer to the bathroom doorway. "I regret to inform you, that you will not be attending this mission."

There was a clank as she dropped something to the floor. It was quiet.

"And why is that?" her voice came, cold and hard.

"Your skills are not good enough for a mission such as this," he replied with a knot in his throat, sensing her mood shift.

Anger swelled inside of her and she rushed to the bathroom door, looking him dead in the eye. She couldn't believe him; what nerve he had! And so, she snapped. "Apparently not good enough because your orders have kept me from advancing!" she spat. His eyes grew were wide with a subdued shock, as if he was trying to keep it hidden. "Yeah, I know that it was you who gave the order to keep me from receiving my temptaint!" she roared, moving towards him.

"How?" he asked rather calmly, his eyebrow twitching upwards as faces flew through his mind. Of course, not many people had known about that, and he was quickly narrowing down who it could have been.

"Yukio told me a lot about you, Mephisto – or whatever the hell your actual name is." Brow furrowed, her face began to coil contemptuously as she poked him on the chest.

The man's expression grew dark as he tried to hold his composure, his face beginning to twist despite his efforts. How dare Yukio go against his orders, and release such information to her. First, Rin had threatened his plans, and now Yukio was getting in the way? He wasn't going to let that happen. He would have to send him off somewhere to keep him away until his anger cooled down; otherwise, he might lose all control when addressing the young teacher's behavior. "I don't like you hanging around those Okumura boys," he growled lowly, exposing sharp canines. The girl merely scoffed at his words, and he took her by the wrist, pulling her in close. "In fact," he started, changing his tone and demeanor to something more sly, "I think it's about time I claimed what was mine."

She gasped as he pulled her in, and her thighs pulsated at the thought. Her body began to grow warm as his fingers slid behind her ear and grasped the back of her neck firmly. His breath was deep and warm as he drew near, and for a moment her mind got lost in the anticipation of what was to come. Her heartbeat increased steadily, pumping harder as his nose grazed her own, and she found herself unable to breathe. A cunning smirk tugged at his lips, just before he pushed them to hers, pulling her body as close as possible to his own. She could feel her heart pound against the wall of her chest for what seemed like an eternity. Once he pulled away just enough that his lips lingered, teasing her for more, a devious look in his eyes, she drew a deep breath.

And then, she slapped him across the face as hard as she could muster.

It felt like she had hit a brick wall, but he released her from his grasp and snarled with a hand on his cheek.

"Yours?" she repeated, stressing the word with scorn. "I am not a fucking possession," she hissed, heart still racing. His eyes widened for a moment at her pronounced defiance. "No; I'm done being a part of your sick games, I am not a toy!" she yelled, whirling through the dorm, grabbing some of her things. "Get the hell out of my sight, and don't talk to me until you've approved my temptaint ritual!" She smacked him repeatedly as the words she screamed fell from her mouth, until the two of them were out into the hall, where she finally let up, slamming the door to her dorm and tossing her bag over her shoulder.

"And just where do you think you're going?" he grumbled loudly as she stormed down the hall.

She spun around and continued to walk backwards. "Who knows? Maybe to go hangout with those Okumura boys!" she mocked, and then trampled down the stairs, steam blowing from her ears.

(Author: Beware, the next chapter is definitely M and probably shouldn't be viewed by those under 17!)


	31. Chapter 31, Mine

Chapter 31, Mine.

 _Warning: Heavily Mature Content, Language._

 _(Author: WHOA THERE EVERYONE~! This chapter is rated M/NC-17! By reading on, you are confirming you are of age!)_

It was well past midnight when she returned to her dormitory, and a storm was beginning to roll in across the night sky. Only a few lights could be seen from outside, and everything was quiet as she rode the elevator up to the top floor. She had spent the evening with Rin and Yukio, finally releasing her frustrations that had been pent up over weeks. However, she kept everything about Amaimon a secret, still. She couldn't let anyone know, no matter how much it irked her. She had mostly ignored Rin's presence for the first hour and a half while she sat and talked to Yukio about Johann, and he sat quietly, listening to her vent while she paced the room, picking up the items that she tossed sporadically, and occasionally she flopped down onto the bed next to her tutor, where he would place a hand on her knee to console her or hold her hand loosely when she became emotional for just a few moments.

Once she had begun to calm down, she started to watch Rin pack from the corner of her eye, noticing his tail was completely out in the open, swishing around like it had a mind of its own. After a while, she addressed him, asking about it, and the two talked about how he found out he was a demon. She supposed, that he wasn't actually a bad guy, he was still the same Rin, with the same sense of humor, the same kindness, the same empathy, everything that she enjoyed about him. A feeling of guilt overwhelmed her, and she finally apologized for keeping her distance and ignoring him for so long. It seemed possible that she had been pushing some of her frustrations, anger, and fear, onto him instead of processing it properly. It was unfortunately easy to do with someone who was different, such as a demon; especially after what Rin and Amaimon had done. Still, she had never even given him the chance to explain himself. Rin only smiled, happy that someone was finally accepting him for who he was.

She sighed, feeling relaxed after opening up finally and letting out so much misdirected emotions. Tomorrow, she would have to meet up with the director, and have an actual talk with him about everything over coffee or something. Surely, like Rin, there was a reasonable explanation as to why he was lying to her, and why he had to go under so many aliases.

As she walked down the dimly lit corridor towards her room, it seemed as if it grew darker at the end, surrounding her door. Maybe it was because of the way she had left things, she thought. The air was still, and felt rather unwelcoming as she approached.

Yawning, she flipped through the keys on her keychain until she found the right one, and unlocked the door. It opened with a quiet creak, and she tossed her purse onto the ground beside the coat rack. A deep thunder rolled across the sky, and when she went for the light switches, nothing happened. The power must have just gone out, she assumed, untying her uniform tie and kicking off her shoes by the door. She pulled the sweater over her head as she turned around, and began unbuttoning her shirt when a flash of lightning struck and illuminated the room, casting dark shadows everywhere in the corner of her eye.

She stopped, looking around the darkness.

It was then that she felt it, yet again. She felt the presence, the eyes on her like she had felt her whole life.

Lightning struck again and lit up the room from the window once more, and her heart pounded as she jumped back, seeing something that wasn't normally there.

Sitting in the plush chair near the window, with looming green eyes, was Mephisto dressed in one of his silk yukatas ties loosely about his waist. His elbow rested on the arm of the chair, his head being propped up by long fingers spread across his face; sharp nails indented his forehead and cheek. His other arm extended out over the chair, clasping a glass of wine loosely as he tapped on it with black claws while he awaited her return.

"Oh, it's you!" she exclaimed with a sigh of relief, the tenseness in her body wavering. "For a second, I thought…" she began mumbling, only for her voice to trail off as she thought about the feeling she had sensed. She always thought that familiar sensation was from demons, and so she was half expecting the King of Earth to be there, but perhaps, she wondered, she just felt that way whenever anyone or anything was around her. The room was silent still. It was strange that he was there, wasn't it? Glancing back to him, her eyes adjusting to the dim light of the moon, she took notice in the displeasure in his demeanor. He hadn't moved, and only continued to glower at her while rhythmically tapping on the glass every thirty seconds. Her thoughts instantly raced through everything that she had said earlier that day. "I'm sorry. For what I said, for what I did; that wasn't right of me." She stuttered.

"I'm not here for apologies." His voice sounded like gravel, and he set the glass of wine down by a nearly empty bottle on the side table as he stood. "I've come for only a couple of reasons," he said, moving closer to her.

"Which are…?" she asked cautiously. He was acting strange, even for him.

"To give you what you wanted, mostly," he spoke softly with a smile, lightly wrapping his cold, bare hand around her upper arm, sending a shiver up her spine. "But also to show you something about myself," he began to trace her collar bones with his fingernail, slowly moving his way down the center of her chest, skimming across her slightly exposed breasts, his sharp eyes drifting down along with his finger. "And of course, to teach you a lesson," he stated, snapping his pupils back up to the girl.

"To teach me what?" she asked, stressing the question as she attempted to take a step back.

He gripped her arm tighter and pulled her to him, causing her to gasp as she realized she was powerless against the strength he held. He then grabbed her face with both hands, holding her adoringly, looking into her deeply with a crafty smirk. For the first time in months, he was finally able to feel her skin with his own, bare hands, and she seemed surprised by how chilled they were. "That you are mine, my dear," he spoke heavily before pressing his lips to hers, and reveled in the way she felt beneath his fingertips. She was like the finest silk, fresh from the line as she became more and more flushed.

She kept her own lips tight, trying to deny him since she so desperately wished to talk; but the feeling of his mouth on hers, his hands caressing her face, and his body moving into her own, she couldn't help but to relax into the profound embrace. As she accepted him unto her, he slipped a rather sharp tongue into her mouth, coaxing her own to come into play, as he moved his hands down her figure firmly, taking in her curves.

He pulled her in as a stray hand began pulling and tugging her shirt out from where it was tucked, safely into her skirt. Her body tingled as the hand slipped under the crisp uniform top, grazing up along her bare sides, pushing against the tautness as it enfolded around her protruding breast. She let out a shaky exhale, which only seemed to light a fire within him; suddenly, a popping sound tore through the room as he pulled at the shirt, ripping the buttons off and casting the top aside. He began to step into her, their mouths locked, and she had no choice but to move backwards until he was driving her into the bedroom. The plush comforter brushed up against the back of her thighs, and her body tensed for a moment, out of her control. Everything was out of her control. But in the moment, she was delighted.

Releasing her from his hold, his eyes wandered her uncovered body, his palms quickly following suit as he absorbed her openly for the first time. Lightning stuck off in the distance once again, dimly lighting the room through the window, highlighting every bend, every bow, every angle. In the back of her mind, she began to feel the same sensations as always while his emerald eyes looked her over, but the sensations that were surging through her as his hands explored were more distracting than anything she had ever faced before. Glancing up to her, their eyes met, and he smirked devilishly with sharp teeth before meeting his lips with hers once more. And yet again, she became entranced back into the sensations which plagued her.

Encased in a deep, husky embrace, his hands roamed her figure, taking in every inch of flesh he could find. Moving his mouth from hers, he began tasting her skin along her jaw, and down her neck. His hot breath persuaded her hair to rise in bumps all over her body, and every time his lips grazed her ever so slightly, her heart beat eagerly while chills ran down the entirety of her being. He would nip at her jaw, her neck, her shoulder, her collar bone, the top of her breast; each time, driving her senses wild with anticipation. Sharp nails drug lightly up her thigh, under her skirt, where she was nearly begging him. The pulsating sensations of her body caused her muscles to retract as he moved closer and closer, and she uncontrollably clasped her thighs onto his hand, letting out a whimper as he grazed his teeth boldly across her neck.

He had waited far too long, and he could no longer hold himself back.

Unexpectedly, Mephisto then took her by the arm and flung her onto the bed, where she landed face down. Before she could move, she felt him crawl onto the bed behind her, and he loomed over her pleated figure, taking a cluster of hair within his grasp, pushing the side of her head into the linens. Frightened by this sudden, daring move, she yelped and tried to kick free, much to no avail. Gripping her hip with his free hand to keep her in place, he shushed her evenly. It was then that she realized his grasp, although solid, wasn't actually hurting; it was just enough to hold her right where he wanted her. Once her muscles began to relax, he clutched her hip bone tighter, pushing himself up against her. She could feel a firm protrusion graze against her, and she grew warm from the waist down. His hand slid up her skirt, grazing across the underwear she wore, only for nails to find her back, where they scraped lightly at her on their way back down to her thigh, sending her nerves into a frenzy. She couldn't help but to rock her hips back into him, letting out soft sounds of desire.

Suddenly, he stopped pushing her down into the bed, and instead, pulled her up by the hair clasped within his fist, and then swiftly wrapped his palm around her neck, where he held her pinned, his breath puffing on her shoulder. His free hand fumbled to lift her skirt and then slipped under the side of her panties, which he began to roll down her thighs until they fell to her knees. Her heart thumped in her chest as he squeezed the bare cheek below her skirt, and his body tensed into an uncontrollable surge, where his fangs grazed against her neck once more; clenching her thighs together, she let out a soft moan, which was partially interrupted by his grip around her neck. As if it was too much to bear, his free hand left, and rummaged behind her as he hastily unfastened his robe, pulling out his hard, twitching member. It rubbed up between her easing legs, becoming slicker from her anticipation.

Hand still around her throat, he pushed her forward onto all fours, keeping his body close. Her muscles coursed with impatience as he steadied himself, moving along her creases. Finally, he pushed into her once more, and she couldn't help but to let out a loud gasp of relief as she stretched around him, conforming to him. His thrusts came hard, and only grew harder the louder that she moaned, and the closer they became, the tighter his grip around her neck grew. Wrapping his free arm under hers and digging his claws into her shoulder, he brought his body as close as it could get as he drove deep, his hot breath on the nape of her neck as he groaned with her.

She dug her fingers into the sheets as the temperature of her body soared, and her muscles grew tense as she shivered out of control. The grip on her throat completely relaxed for a moment, just so he could hear her squeal in pleasure as he plunged into her as fully as he could. Her ears and toes grew hot as she became engulfed in euphoria, and almost as if that's what he was waiting for, he grabbed her neck firmly and slammed into her a couple more times. As he released, he jerked her back just enough and bit down into her neck with his fangs, drawing blood. The intensely mixed sensations, along with him convulsing into her, gave her the most forceful liberation she had ever experienced, pain and pleasure enfolding into one as stars began to flash on the lining of her lids.

The two paused, panting heavily. Slowly, he let go of the grip he had on the girl, and released her from his jaws. Their hot, sticky skin peeled apart as she plopped forward onto the bed, trembling; a twinge of pain came from her neck, and she glanced down to see the small amount of blood running down to her collar bone. The breathless Mephisto crawled over top of the girl, admiring the expression of bewilderment on her beautiful face, and kissed the side of her sweaty temple before getting up from the bed to retrieve the robe which had fallen to the floor. She rolled over to see what he was doing, only to be met with a long, black tail which swished right in front of her view.

Everything which had been hinted at over months of being around him suddenly came crashing upon her, as if it were always there, hovering just out of plain sight. It finally dawned on her.

Oh my god, she thought; I was just fucked by a demon.


	32. Chapter 32, King of Time

Chapter 32, King of Time.

"So, you are the demon Mephistopheles, then?" she questioned, studying the man she thought she had known for almost a half a year, watching the black tail twist and coil like a snake.

He chuckled as he slipped the satin robe over himself, tying it loosely. "In a sense, yes, I am. But only because that's the name humans gave me many years ago."

She sat up, pulling the blankets up over her being, shielding her from his vision. "So that's not your real name?"

"I'm afraid not," he spoke smoothly as he approached the side of the bed, holding an open palm out for her. "Please, allow me to show you who I am."

She inspected his hand for the first time. She had known this man for so long, and yet, had never seen his bare hand before. It was slender, and his fingers long, only to be accentuated by the lengthy nails which sprouted from them. How had she never questioned it? Had she really been so engrossed in him for so long, that she never thought it was strange he wouldn't remove his gloves? It was possible, as tolerant as she was, that she had just accepted how quirky he made himself out to be. But how had she not noticed the nails earlier? Had there been so much on her mind when she had returned to the dorm, that she couldn't bring herself to notice the oddities of the situation? How had he gotten in her dorm? She had quickly assumed, being the director, he had a key—but now she wasn't positive. What about when she found the letters in her room-had he slipped them through the door, or had he entered some other way? Images of the demon before her tapping his nails on the wine glass flashed into her mind. Why didn't she find it odd before?

"Do you trust me?" came the familiar voice. Her gaze skimmed up from the strange, open palm, up to the face she had grown accustomed too. Something tugged at her heart as she laid eyes on him, taking in the sharp, angled features of his face. She had been completely smitten with a stranger, and nothing else made her feel so foolish.

He took a step closer to her as he brought over his other, naked hand, and his face relaxed as he attempted to comfort the girl he had grown rather attached to over time. "It's still me," he cooed quietly; "You know that in your heart." It was then that he realized the familiarity in her demeanor; he had seen it before. He had seen the shaky, detached look in her eye as her whole soul pulled away from him. And at last, he came to a deeper understanding of what had actually happened. Why she had avoided him completely for weeks. Why he had almost lost her. On top of his younger brothers' nearly destroying the forest she was in, threatening her feeble life, his alias was exposed, and it seemed she no longer trusted him. His mind began to race frantically. How had he brought her back? Surely she hadn't yet known that he was a demon, she was too awestruck at the moment; could he bring her back after this? In the moment, as he felt her slip through his grasp, his heart racing, he was no longer merely consumed with winning, with making her his—he needed her to trust him, to want him. And he needed her to want him as who he was.

A lump found its way to his throat when he reached out his arms, and she jolted backwards. "I'm not going to hurt you. I've never let anything happen to you."

"W-what do you mean?" she stuttered, her eyes shifting quickly from his outstretched arms as he slowly drew near, and back to his face.

"I've never meant to lie to you. Allow me to explain—allow me to show you."

Her stomach twisted in knots as she stared him in the eyes. There was suddenly something different in them, something so tender and aching. Slowly, she released the linen barrier that she had held up above her chin, and hesitantly brought out an arm. She had made the mistake with Rin, not giving him a chance to explain himself—but Rin had never deceived her so. Perhaps she needed to give this demon the chance to do the same, so she may understand. It wasn't set in stone; she would just allow him to explain himself. She didn't have to decide to trust him yet.

As her fingers twitched into his, he encased them in his hands and pulled her from the bed, where he tried to bring her close into an embrace—only to be met with a jolt and a hard look. He watched her fold her arms around herself, to shield her body from his gaze. Sighing, he snapped his fingers, releasing a puff of smoke around them. As it cleared, the two of them were dressed completely; she in a uniform, and he in his usual clothing, topped with his hat.

"Eins, zwei, drei—" a familiar jingle which jogged the girls' memory of the night after drinking, so many months ago. Another puff of smoke, and when it cleared, the two of them were hovering in the night sky above a hospital. She shrieked, looking down at the ground so far below them, only for a familiar arm to wrap around her and pull her in close. "Many years ago," Mephisto began, speaking lowly over her shoulder. "A mother struggled for her life in this very hospital."

Glancing to the side at him, she followed his line of sight to one of the hospital windows.

"There was something about this woman, and the life within her, which interested me. Maybe it was the mother's will to live, maybe it was the child itself. But I remember hearing the wails of this woman carry through the air so far from where she lay. Naturally I, as well as many other demons, were drawn to the scene of her suffering."

The girl watched below as dark masses boiled up from the ground, and came from the bushes, encircling the small, dilapidated hospital. There were dozens of these shadowy creatures, and they slowly became more dense as they settled into Assiah, revealing their true forms. They were demons—all different sizes, forms, types. It was then that she saw the figure of someone familiar walk up to the building. A man, dressed in a long white coat, and dark hair which framed his angular face. The hair on the back of her neck began to raise, and her eyes shot wildly from the man on the ground, to the man behind her, comparing their looks.

"T-that's you?! But you're—"

"Yes. That is me, but from many years ago," he answered calmly, and although the confusion on her face was evident at first, it was sufficient enough to begin adding pieces to the puzzle of her mind. She returned her gaze to the scene below.

The screams of a woman echoed through the night. First, they were strong and powerful as she belted them out, fighting with every once of her being; but after long enough, they began to waver with exhaustion. The nurses could be seen within the small window darting around the room. The woman clung to mere threads of life, but as she began to fade, a black smoke portal opened in the courtyard, where a slender figure adorned in a long, black hood stepped through into Assiah. A long, curved blade rested upon its shoulder. She watched intently as the figure approached the building, sliding across the cobblestone like a ship on dead water, only for the other Mephisto to step in front of it.

"Death came," his voice cracked as he watched the scene before him; the mirror version of himself raising his hands expressively as he spoke to the dark figure. "But I was so fixated on the life within this human, I was able to talk Death into a wager, where he spared the life of the mother and the child. In turn for saving their deaths for later, another soul was needed—"

The hooded figure passed into the building, and the girl could see a man in the window of the hospital room, clinging to the woman's hand as he was folded over in tears. His hair was the same color as the girls, and her heart stopped. The man looked up at the hooded figure in front of him as if he could see it himself, and it extended a slim arm out, touching the man on the forehead; and then he collapsed to the floor. Nurses from other rooms began bolting everywhere, and many flooded within the hospital room, where they placed the man's body on a bed and hastily attempted to revive him for minutes, all while the mother screamed and cried in pain and torture. After what seemed like an eternity, they wheeled him from the room out of the sight of the woman, and one nurse covered him with a white sheet in the hall. The rest of the nurses anxiously prepped the woman, all yelling and barking orders to each other as the woman squealed louder and louder. And finally, she stopped, and the quiet cry of a baby sounded through the atmosphere.

"She was different. Special. Every demon knew it. We were all drawn to it," Mephisto whispered, his green eyes still locked onto the hospital window. He slowly brought up the other hand, which was not wrapped around the girls' waist, and snapped his fingers. The scene below changed, and they found themselves outside of her childhood home, floating just outside her bedroom window. "In between my duties with the Order and my personal interest in my younger brothers, I watched her grow."

The child played in the barren second-story bedroom with her toy tea set. There weren't many toys within the room, but the walls were covered in paper which she had drawn on. She couldn't have been older than five years of age, and she sat on her knees, pouring make-believe tea into two mismatched cups. She set the second cup out in front of her, and just sat, waiting. The girl heard a quiet titter from the demon beside her as he watched the scene as well, a minuscule smile on his lips. The child looked out the window, seemingly right at them.

"Can she see us?" the girl asked.

"No, she cannot. But you can finally see," he spoke quietly.

Hearing the crack of the window opening, the girl turned back to the house, only to see the image of Mephisto sitting on the open window sill. The child watched carefully, unaware of exactly what was going on, and then finally picked up the other cup that she had set out. Crawling up on top of her bed, she went to the window, holding out the empty cup to the demon that had entered. The child looked around the room, unable to see the man who had cocked his head. When he took the cup within his hands, the child squealed and smiled, pouncing down from the bed and grabbing her own cup, which she pretended to drink from.

The girl blushed heavily, remembering days like the one before her. She faintly remembered the imaginary friend she had growing up. Was it him all along?

Mephisto hopped down from the window sill and entered the bedroom, where he sat down on the floor across from the little girl. When he placed the cup down on the ground, the child once again tipped the plastic tea pot as if to pour the tea. He snapped his fingers, and the child beamed excitedly as real tea spewed from the spout, filling the little cup and spilling over onto the carpet. She poured herself some and giggled while she talked and babbled in words that barely made sense while she sipped. The image of Mephisto placed his elbow on his knee, resting his chin in his hand while he sat quietly, watching the child with a smile as she started showing him some of her drawings-mere scribbles on paper.

It was then that the bedroom door swung open, and the girl saw the mother—her mother—in the door way, face red. She stormed in once she saw the wet stains on the ground, and began chastising the girl for sneaking real tea from the kitchen. The child cried that it was her friend, and her mother smacked her across the face, telling her to stop lying.

The demon beside her let out a sigh. "I had to stop interacting with her directly for these reasons. But I was never far." He snapped his fingers once more, and the scene changed.

She was on the playground at recess, she couldn't have been older than nine. She was playing in the sand box quietly, building a castle with a scowl on her face as she fortified the walls around her tower, certain no one would get in. The figure of Mephisto watched from a distance, observing quietly from a rooftop. A group of boys ran by, and one stopped in front of her, his hands on his hips. She could now see that she boy had horns, but the nine year old version of her just saw an unruly bully with pointy ears. The boy began trampling on her construction as he teased her, making her burst out in tears. As she ran away, the boy cackled loudly, proud of his accomplishment of causing the girl some form of agony. There was a puff of misty smoke, and the image of Mephisto appeared right before the boy, who stopped laughing as soon as he realized who it was; Mephisto flicked the boys nose, sending him toppling over with a bloody face.

"I felt compelled to protect the life that I had assured would enter this world," came the demon as he snapped his fingers again.

She covered her mouth quickly, remembering the scene before her vividly. She was young, about thirteen, when it happened. The girl was walking home from school, and had decided to take a shortcut through the city by taking the back alleys, instead of skirting around the whole town in order to get to the far side where she lived. As she walked through the dark, grey alley ways, she would stop every now and then, looking around her, listening quietly. The alleys of her hometown were a labyrinth of stone, and sometimes you would hear noises or footsteps echoing through them, and you were never sure if it was someone close or far. Not too far behind the girl, was the image of Mephisto, casually tracking her as she trudged on. As the young girl went deeper and deeper, she could see someone else was following.

Her heart pounded in her chest, and the demon held her tighter.

The young girl walked around a corner, only to be ambushed by a large man in a denim blue mechanic's suit. He grabbed her and pulled her down the alley, and despite her efforts she couldn't free herself from his grasp. As she studied the scene, she noticed that the man looked differently—he had long, pointed ears, and one swirled horn on one side of his head, while what would have been the matching horn, was broken off on the other side. He laughed as he drug his slimy tongue up her cheek and ripped at her clothing, her yelps for help being lost within the sea of cobblestone. And then, he tossed her behind a dumpster with enough force to have knocked her out, where she had dislocated her shoulder when she hit the wall. Her body tensed as she watched the creature begin unbuttoning its trousers, a tail slipping out and waving into the air.

And although she didn't understand it then, she could see what happened now; Mephisto came up behind the creature as it bent down, and pulled it backwards by the horn, where he dug the entirety of his hand into the chest of the creature. When he released it, the creature slumped to the ground, its ears shrinking back down to normal, and the horns and tail drifting off into the surroundings. The death of the perpetrator was ruled as a sudden heart attack.

He snapped his fingers again, changing scenes once more. "I watched her grow into a beautiful, strong young woman. And other demons saw this, and wanted her for themselves."

Scenes flashed before her of all the boys she had dated through high school, but now they didn't appear the same as they once did. All the friends, the boyfriends, who had pointed ears or sharp teeth, the ones she was told were birth defects, the ones she just never questioned, all had exaggerated ears, sharp fangs, horns, and sometimes tails.

"Are you trying to tell me that all my exes were demons?" she yelped.

He shook his head. "Not all of them, but most—drawn to you, they took it upon themselves to try to woo you so they could ultimately keep you."

Scenes of her previous boyfriends attempting to pressure her, or being just awful, flashed before her. Liars, manipulators, cheaters – they were all demons. And each one, Mephisto had threatened personally, and they would never even touch her afterwards.

She paused, and turned to the demon beside her, pulling herself away from his tight embrace. "What about you?" she questioned methodically, inspecting his expression.

He snapped his fingers once more, and they appeared in the living area of his mansion. "It was never my intention to deceive you, but yes, I was drawn to you for reasons I cannot myself explain." He waited to see if she had anything to say while he sat down on one of the extravagant sofas. She stayed silent, only watching him with skeptical eyes as she herself sat down on a completely different couch across from him. "I might not know much about human emotions, but I grew to care about you, little flower," he said with a half smile.


	33. Chapter 33, Passion

Chapter 33, Passion.

 _Warning: Highly Mature Content_

 _(Author: Sorry Guys~! This one is rated M/NC-17, too! By reading on, you are confirming you are of age!)_

"So what is this all about, then?" she asked, flustered.

He watched her, carefully selecting his words, trying to decide what would get through to her the easiest way possible. "You, my dear. It's always been about you."

There was no response. She couldn't think of anything to say. It seemed as though it was all too much to take in at one time. And yet, her mind was racing through a sprinting marathon, jumping from one thought to another as it connected the strings of the web which had been laid. He had apparently taken her back in time, and shown her so much; she was alive, she was breathing, she had lived this life up until this point, all because he had made a deal. He had protected her, and had given her the opportunity to attend his school. Her life from the very beginning was heavily influenced by this demon, and it seemed that he meant her no harm; not like the other demons he had shown her. Could demons be good? Could they feel for anyone besides their own selfish desires? Rin was a demon, and he was extremely, empathetically human. He was also the brother of a Demon King… And Amaimon had said his brother was the demon who had followed her throughout the duration of her life. From what she was just shown, the demon who had been haunting her, sending the sensation of being watched up her spine for all her life, was indeed because Mephisto was watching her. Her heart thumped in her chest. He's a Demon King, she quickly thought. Which meant, he had all those paintings were hung for a reason – that portrait of what she thought was his ancestor, had to have been he himself. How old was he?

She looked over at him, her graying eyes meeting his soft expression as he sat, his head resting against his knuckles as he stared at her. "Why now?" She sounded hollow.

He cocked his head. "I had to be sure. As the saying goes: all good things come with time." Studying her demeanor, he paused, the words hanging from the tip of his tongue as he toyed with the idea of saying them. "You are worth the wait."

A dull rose color tinged her cheek and the tip of her nose at his flattery. Could she trust him? He hadn't hurt her, yet. Was he just filling her head with lies and euphemisms so she would trust him, or was he being honest?

Across the room, the demon sat, his eyes trying to burrow into her soul. What's going through that pretty little head of yours, he wondered. It was a shame he couldn't read the minds of humans; this was never going to go his way if he constantly had to guess each time she shut down and pushed him out. It was painfully obvious that she was still guarded, pushing him… And yet, she had already opened back up so much. He could see the contemplation rising in her, the curiosity coming back. The walls of her fortress were weak; all he needed was that final push. But what more did she need? She had finally gotten the temptaint she had so desired to get, even though he had protected her for so long from receiving one. Was it everything she wanted? Were the answers you received sufficient enough, he questioned internally; or is there more that you long for, buried deep behind those walls? A smile tugged at his lips as he was lost in thought, inspecting her behavior, waiting for any clue behind her eyes. She wasn't near as distant as before, no; the grey in them was beginning to fade as she looked on him in a new light. Perhaps he had reeled her back in enough, and she was just coming to terms with the information he had given her. What more could he do, he wondered, searching.

"Come here," he said quietly, motioning with a finger.

She paused, uncertain. What did he want with her? The curiosity brewed within her belly, causing her to rise to her feet. Hesitantly, she sauntered all the way across the intricately designed rug to the other side of the living area where he was seated. Stopping in front of him, her stomach began to twist in knots.

His fingertips met with the supple skin of her thighs, sending shudders throughout her entire body, causing her to tense with anxiety. Wrapping his fingers around her, he began pulling her closer; her legs brushed up against the velvet, and even still he brought her near, until she was in his lap. She sat ridged with just a tint of terror in her veins, the palpations of her heart fluttering in panic as he caressed the skin of her legs, gripping them as he pushed the hem of her skirt up just slightly.

He admired the way she felt, the way she looked. How could one human be so irresistible? He sighed, looking up to her face, which he found to be clouded in doubt. Trying his luck, he leaned in to her, only to feel her push against the tautness of her own muscles in order to keep away from him.

"Are you scared of me, little flower?" he tutted, a slight air of hurt within his voice as he took in her expression. There was a shaky, uncertainty behind her large, dazzling eyes, and he knew it to be true. Something about that thought sent a pain through to his core, and he was unsure as to why. He thought he had embellished his words to the girl before him just earlier, but then why did it seem like there was some veracity to them? Why did he seem to care so much what she thought of him?

Removing his hands from her legs, he caressed her cheek gently with his thumb, glancing back and forth between each eye. "I won't hurt you," he whispered, "You know that, right?"

A knot grew within her throat. Did she know that? They gazed at each other for what seemed like a century, studying one another, telling stories with just their eyes. His green orbs repeated his question, begging her for an answer with each passing moment, growing more fraught each time. The growing aching in his eyes seemed to be genuine; it wasn't very often that the windows to the soul could lie. And his pleaded for her to say something, anything, to assure him that she was not lost forever, but all she could finally muster was a slight nod of the head. Her heart nearly burst as he leaned in once more, and placed his lips upon hers lightly, entwining her into a soft and slow kiss, which grew more potent over time as she slowly opened up to him wholly, her hands coming up to meet his face.

Unable to pull himself from her even if he had wished it, an arm wrapped around her, pulling her in as close as physically possible while his other hand squeezing the back of her thigh in a labored pulsation. Without thinking, he rose to his feet, and when she broke away from him to look down at the ground, he quickly pulled her chin back over to his lips once more. As he took a step, the two of them swiftly popped into the bedroom, where he fumbled towards the bed, unable to concentrate on anything but the girl within his grasp. What had come over him so suddenly? He had waited so long, and though he had won this game in his mind, it wasn't enough. He felt like an abyss, hollow and never ending, but this girl, this sad, pitiful human, somehow seemed to fill him in a way he could have never expected. She was beautiful, in her own, lackluster way, and her mind was captivating, yes—but oh that wasn't just it. Her lips were like a drug, and the feeling of the petals of her skin beneath his icy fingertips was enough to send everything within him into a whirl; he had gotten a taste, and he simply couldn't get enough.

The plush mattress puffed out around her figure as he laid her onto bed, where he slowly crawled on top of her, never once breaking the touch of their lips. Pulling at his polka dot neck tie, he tossed it aside somewhere—anywhere—and his fingers went to her uniform like a magnet, hastily untying her kerchief with skill. His hands stopped after undoing the top two buttons, spreading the collar of her shirt open, and gently enclosing her neck and collars bones with his palm, taking in the feeling of the heavy breath moving through her. He could feel the blood course through her, warming the entirety of her body.

She let out a soft giggle as he moved his way down, caressing her pink skin with his tongue while his hands moved to unbutton her. A chilled gust spread across her stomach as her shirt parted, sending her nerves to rise in sensitive bumps, and she opened her eyes as she could feel the demon sit up. Meeting with his eyes, like jewels reflecting whatever light they were able to capture, she could feel his fingers slide across her belly, to her ribs, and up her arms, where they gripped her just enough to encourage her to sit up with him. She had no idea what she was doing, but she couldn't stop him from slipping her crisp uniform off of her shoulders, where his lips found their way to the small of her neck once again, lightly pecking until they found the tender bite mark from before. A sigh escaped her, and she knew that she didn't want him to stop; the heart wants what it wants, and there was no use tying to deny it.

Without sacrifice of the sweetness of the moment which encircled them, she began unbuttoning his jacket, and as he assisted her, she let out an indulgent titter as he exposed himself over time before her very eyes. She had yet to have such a moment, in the times before; had yet to see his body before hers with such luster. Placing her hand upon his abdomen, she let herself become engrossed in the feeling as eager hands took in the flesh she had yet to touch—it was so normal. So human.

Gently, he laid her down once again, returning his lips to her own, burrowing a hand behind her back. He so easily could have snapped his fingers and rid them of their clothes, but in this moment, the thought of his own powers were far in the distance. He wished to savor every instant, every stroke. Unsnapping the straps, he paused, looking her in the eye as he left her, removing it as slowly as possible. He watched curiously as she pursed her lips, a dash of worry behind her eyes as she became flush the more exposed she became.

As she made a movement to cover herself from his gaze, he smiled sweetly at her, coming back down to her level to ease her once again, whispering sweet nothings against her collar bone. She let out a sigh of pleasure as he made his way down, carefully, taking his time with her, making sure he tasted everything he had yet to take the time on once before. Everywhere he left a suckling kiss, the chill air blew ice onto it, heightening her senses even further, turning her skin like daggers that would tingle and vibrate to her core at just the thought of a touch.

After giving each breast their well-deserved attention, he moved to her belly, nipping at her ribs, causing her to writhe beneath him. She gripped his bare shoulder, or the small of his smooth neck, playing with the sprouts of hair, each time her body surged as he grazed his teeth and tongue across her, only to end with a sensual kiss. Moving down her more and more, he unzipped her skirt so delicately that she only noticed when he began to pull it free of her, meeting her legs with tender nips the whole way down to her toes.

He kneeled between her stems, taking her in with complete adoration, her blush distinct with the temperature of her body. Her hips rocked as his nails slid up her thigh, his fingers splayed, and she let out a small gasp when he met her warmth with his thumb, stroking and massaging smoothly. The warmer she grew, the deeper her breath became; he slipped a thumb under the black lace, where it tested how prepared she was.

Unsatisfied, He leaned down, pulling the lace to the side. She yelped as his face drew near, and clenched her thighs around him as her eyes darted to the place where her thighs met. Their eyes met as he hovered, patiently, his hot breath looming over her, and she slowly relaxed into the rhythm of his breathing, anticipating what was to come.

Slowly, the tip of his warm tongue began to trace her creases, with the same care and devotion as he had spent on the rest of her, and she let out a heavy, shaky sigh as her hips curled around him, bashfully trying for contact, only to be denied multiple times. Her body rushed with heat each time the tip of his smooth muscle flicked her point, and she inexplicably begged for more as she turned red. Taking such a cue, he pressed the entirety of his tongue against her, gradually moving it upwards until it rested upon her tip, where he would stop and massage for just a second; and so he would repeat, each time her body curling more intensely as her breathing became heavier and heavier until eager whimpers began to escape from her lips.

He stopped and gave it a deep French kiss, before flicking his tongue over her at an increasing, rhythmic pace, sending rushes of heat up her body, where they escaped through her as a symphony, echoing off of the cathedral ceilings above. He took every prompt he could from her, and didn't let up despite how much her hips rocked, or how tightly her thighs clasped around him. He was determined to make her fold in euphoria, longing to see her turn a shade of red even Satan himself would be jealous of.

Gripping the sheets tightly within her grasp, a massive shudder took her over, and her knee bolted up, clouting the side of his head with her thigh. A soft, endearing chuckle sounded, vibrating through her body as he continued, pushing her leg down and wrapping his arm around her to hold her in place. Her toes began to curl and stretch as if they couldn't decide which was better, the heat rising in her body becoming nearly unbearable as if she was roasting in hell. Her back arched as she let out a shriek.

Taking her hip and pinning her back down to the bed as gently as he could, he came upon her with more force, and such haste. He listened closely to her breath become short, choppy and labored as her fingers dove into his hair, entwining themselves within his soft locks, pulling tightly as she began to quake beneath him.

She froze, quivering rhythmically with his massage, and he carefully pushed a finger into her, wanting to feel her completely as the walls of her dam tightened around him. And finally, they burst, heat exploding through her veins while she convulsed, yelping boisterously in ecstasy.

Sitting up, he grinned at his handiwork; the girl sprawled out in his bed, panting heavily in between sounds as he continued kneading her walls tenderly, only allowing her to catch her breath until she was ready to bring him into her fortress, and allow him unto her world fully and completely.

"Say your name for me," she demanded, her voice weak and airy.

He leaned down to his human, his hand still between her thighs. His emptiness in his eyes was full and dark and vast as he murmured his given name. "Samael."

A smile found its way to her lips as she breathed the name, closing her eyes and letting such power flow through her. Something inside of him, deep down in his core, constricted in an attempt to keep his own composure; only to fail, as it gushed through him. And in that moment, he knew that nothing else so sweet would ever grace his ears.


	34. Chapter 34, Pursuit of Proof

Chapter 34, Pursuit of Proof.

He lay lounged on the bed, watching her dress in the amber morning sun. To him, there was never a more beautiful sight, and he was filled with a warmth as alien as he knew it. He wasn't sure at what point his interest in the human had turned into a desire, but lately it seemed to have sprouted and bloomed into something much more than that. Something he was unfamiliar with. Normally, this was the point at which he would begin to tire of a companion; they would so often start to demand so much, request so much of his time, and their interactions would become monotonous. He had wooed her, gotten her to trust him, to let him back in, and now she was his in nearly every way possible. What more could be done, he wondered, searching the depths of his mind. Was such a sweet game finally coming to an end? And if it was, why did he have an unwavering sense to have her close, to protect her, to keep her and take care of her? Wouldn't he become bored, like he always did?

The eternal unrest raced through the shadows of his conscience, unknowingly to the precious life before him. He pursed his lips as his eyes followed the curves of her body as she moved about. Pops of skin glowed in the early morning sunlight as she slid her clothing on, and without even thinking, he found himself running his fingertips along the sheets, envisioning once more how her bare skin had felt. Realizing this, he blushed lightly, jerking his arm up. She glanced over his way, and when her glistening eyes met with his, his heart thumped.

He looked up at her like a puppy from the bed as she dressed, prepping for her day. She chuckled a bit when he flopped over on his belly, resting his chin in his palms as he watched her intently, a warmth glowing on his face.

"You should quit," he said, finally breaking the blissful silence.

She chortled in surprise. "Quit?"

"Quit your job, stay here with me," he said as he sat up. "I'll take care of you."

She stood from the chair where she had been tying her shoes, and laughed haughtily. "I don't think so. I quite like my job." It at least gave her a break from studies, and from the demon who demanded most of her time.

There is was. That hint of defiance. It wasn't always prevalent, but when it did make an appearance it drove him wild. Raising his hand, he motioned with a finger for her to come to him, to which she only stuck her tongue out on her way to the bathroom. His eyes gleamed as a crafty smirk cracked upon his face, and in seconds the girl was pulled back by an unknown force until she landed on the bed next to him. Still unfamiliar with his powers, she gasped and wheezed in surprise, only to find the demon king flipping himself over her as he pinned her down.

"I said, I want you to quit," he spoke through curled lips, his eyebrows rising to the challenge.

Giggling, she sat up and puffed out her lips a bit. "And I said: No," she cooed, mocking him playfully and pushing him off of her. He didn't resist the nudge; he couldn't. And so he flopped back onto the mattress with a hint of a smile as she stood, denying him once more.

The chime of a phone went off on the nightstand, and they both recognized the ringtone as one of the theme songs to an anime Mephisto was quite fond of. Hastily retrieving his phone, he looked at the contact. "We'll talk about this later," he dismissed as he got up from the bed, leaving the room.

It must have been a rather important phone call, as he didn't return to the bedroom while she took her time getting ready. Grabbing her things, she walked through the halls, calling out to him, with no reply. It happened often, this sort of thing; something important would come up, and he would leave to take care of his duties without even telling her. Usually, the help would inform her of his likely whereabouts, but that was all she would get. In truth, before she had known about his true identity, she found herself very perplexed on how he would leave so quickly without her noticing, but everything was beginning to make sense. If ever she had a question, it was usually solved by such a thought: He's a demon, after all.

Walking to work, she marveled at how many little demons were scattered about. The barriers set around the University might have kept out a lot of demons, but it seemed these harmless little ones would make their way in somehow. They seemed curious of the life in the bustling city, and she was amazed to see what they actually looked like. Only having references from images in her textbooks, she had only seen the biased drawings of the Order and the Vatican; although for most of her life she didn't believe that demons could be so malicious and look such a way, after meeting the ferocious Fenrir and the destructive Amaimon, she had begun to doubt the intentions of demons as a whole. But as she walked the city streets, she saw something totally different. Little coal tahl floated through the air mindlessly, bumping into one another or into walls or into people every once in a while. Confused, they would stop and blink before shaking and re-fluffing themselves, and moving on. Some smaller, animal like demons would be seen at some of the shops, especially the ones with food, causing some sort of mischief. A little hunched black creature with a fluffy tail, no larger than a cat, popped and fizzled as two little clawed hands came out, meeting with the tray of fruit at a stand; it tugged and pulled before it realized the stand wasn't going to budge from its tiny body, and instead it resorted to jumping up. The fruit began to shift and scatter about as it fumbled, causing some to plop to the ground and roll away.

They seemed harmless.

Why had she been so scared?

Turning around, she noticed she had a train of little demons trotting behind her, and quite a few coal tahl trailing as well while they drifted through the air. She stopped, and they all came to a halt, little beady eyes watching her carefully. Some of the coal tahl bumped into each other, sending little puffs of dust out around them. Chuckling to herself, she continued on her way to the café.

Maybe she wasn't as naïve as she had thought. Maybe they were curious little creatures without terrible intentions. Maybe their curious, playful nature was just misunderstood by humans. After all, it seems she had misunderstood Amaimon.

Samael's brother. Had he been drawn to her as well? That might explain the way he acted toward her, she thought, face growing warm as she tied her apron behind the counter. She wondered if Amaimon had said anything to his brother, the King of Time, about what had happened. The little green haired demon had kept pleading for her to keep everything a secret, so she couldn't imagine he would bring the events up. _Brother can't know,_ he had said. He was so distraught, so frantic when she threatened him. He must have meant Mephisto. But why was he so anxious?

She was noticeably red when her mind replayed Amaimon kissing her in slow motion. _That's a bit awkward,_ she thought to herself with a hum, setting drinks down on a table for a guest. _Let's not bring that up again,_ she reprimanded. After all, she had told the little demon to never come to her again, and her hopes were high.

While on her lunch, she sat at one of the little tables in the corner of the café, looking up articles on her phone. She might not have had her textbooks with her while at work, but she could still read up on some legends and pull some information within them. First order of business: Samael. She had read tidbits about the eight Demon Kings in class here and there, but it wasn't particularly pressing for her to learn everything and everything she could about them at such a time.

But now, more than ever, she was curious.

Her eyes shifted through the articles, picking up as much material as she could. There were so many different depictions of Samael, what he was, what he stood for, who he worked for. The most popular lore was that he was an archangel, who was said to have fallen from God – but she knew him to be the son of Satan himself, so that didn't quite make much sense. However, angels and demons were all names that humans had given to the entities from Gehenna, it just depended on how good, or how evil, the Vatican thought the beings were. Were humans really so full of themselves? She chuckled to herself and rolled her eyes.

Continuing on another page, it read that Samael, unlike his brother Lucifer who was purely evil, was said to be both good and evil – often times working for the good, while enforcing the darker side of faith. In some legends, he's associated with death and destruction, temptation and seduction, or even divine justice. He was a contradiction in every sense; the prince of demons, who took heed the word of God, and embodied good and evil into one being.

She sighed heavily, ripping a bite from her bagel. These articles were practically useless; they varied too greatly from religion to religion, and it seemed as though they couldn't settle on what kind of angel or demon he was. Was the man she was involved with really that complex? She did find it odd that he, a Demon King, was on earth helping the Vatican. He just wanted peace between Assiah and Gehenna, that's what he had told her, so long ago. He adored all things human, even they themselves.

Her mind went on a rampage, trying to decipher old texts. Maybe the Vatican was being represented in the lore as God itself – that would mean that although he was from what humans viewed as evil, he took word and commands from the 'good.' But what was this part about falling from God? Perhaps, she reasoned, it was a translating error. Satan himself was revered as a God often enough.

She was lost in thought as she scrolled through articles, still trying to get a sense of him as much as she could, when someone walked over to the table and stood in front of her, practically unnoticed.

"Well aren't you radiant!" an unfamiliar voice came.

The girl nearly jumped from her seat as she scrambled to keep her phone from dropping to the ground. Eyes darting up, she was met with an unknown face, beaming brightly at her. He wore the exorcist uniform, but something seemed strange. Maybe it was the sudden manner that he approached.

"Mind if I have a seat?" the man asked with a smirk, pulling the chair across the table. The girl nodded with large eyes, watching him plop down. He started with some tedious small talk, trying to break the ice repeatedly, asking what the girl was doing while he tried to peek at the little screen, or asking how she was, and so on. His eyes felt like daggers scraping at her skin. The girl quietly answered all of the questions unenthusiastically, tucking her phone into her pocket safely. Every once in a while, he would stop almost mid-sentence and apologize, going on about how lovely the girl appeared. She was picturesque, he would complement—she was just glowing.

"I bet Mephisto is quite pleased to have such nice arm candy," he finally boasted, raising an eyebrow.

The girl froze. "E-excuse me?" she stuttered, trying to stay as collected as possible. How on earth did he know?

A mischievous grin took hold of him. "You're quite the topic among the uppers. Tell me, girl, has he revealed his true identity to you?"

She sucked a large gulp through her straw, and laughed nervously with a little cough. "I'm afraid I have no idea what you're talking about."

She watched as his eyes narrowed. "Of course… My mistake!" he chuckled, smiling brightly. "Just thought you should know, in case something was going on, he's quite the little trickster. But if the two of you aren't involved, well then, there's nothing to worry about!"

"What do you mean?" the girl asked, suddenly becoming much more interested in the conversation. Did this man know something she didn't?

"Oh nothing!" he chimed, gaze dancing into the café. "Speak of the devil himself," he muttered, watching someone approach.

Drawing her attention to the side, the girl finally laid eyes on the demon king, who stood poised, his arms behind his back at the side of the table. A prickly irritability flashed in his pupils as a crooked, taut smile forced its way across his sharp face. "Sorry to interrupt such a delightful conversation," he began, shooting a hard look at the exorcist. "But if you'll please excuse us, this one has something urgent to attend to." He brought out a gloved hand, helping the perplexed girl from her seat.

She glanced back to see the man in his black trench coat, leering distastefully from under low lids. "B-but my shift…?" she muttered as Mephisto quickly escorted her to through the door he held open for her.

"I'll take care of it," he answered sharply as they left, keeping a stern gaze on the streets ahead while they walked briskly.

He was so close as they walked, yet he felt so far. She peered up at him, questions filling her mind. "Sam—"

"Don't call me that. Not in the open," he said swiftly, cutting her off as his pupils darted around the street, taking in every face he could see. Looking down at the poor, disordered human who stood next to him, his heart poured to see her appear so pathetic. "There are people in the Vatican, and elsewhere, who seem to be investigating my relationships with others, and by association: you; we must keep what goes on very hushed." He lead her down an alley way, where he finally stopped out of sight of the general passerby, turning to her and placing his hands on her shoulders. "There are going to be those who will try to make me seem…less than trustworthy. Please don't listen to any of it."

His face was tense and his eyes burned into her, displaying the true gravity of the matter which he attempted to downplay as much as he could, brushing it off with his sort of charisma. Something had to have happened, but knowing that her many queries would be left unanswered, she didn't even bother; instead, she cautiously nodded her head in agreement.

"Splendid," he cheered, pleased with her making the decision to trust his word over others; his whole demeanor changed as he shined down at the girl, giving her a quick peck while out of sight from the world. Nothing stayed boring for long.


	35. Chapter 35, Friends Like These

Chapter 35, Friends Like These

 _Warning: Some language_

"Come with me," he said quickly, the purple gloves entwining themselves between her fingers. Holding her tight, he strung her along, deeper into the dreary backstreet, where only boxes and bins and dumpsters found their homes. Turning a corner, they were completely out of sight from the districts main street.

A normal girl would have questioned him. A normal girl would have even pulled back. A normal girl would have done something to free herself from his clutches. But there she was, following the willowy figure clad in white down alleyways which brought up the horrors of her youth, and she didn't blink an eye. Wrapping her fingers around his, their footsteps bounced off of the brick walls that surrounded them as they darted through, their destination completely unknown to her, but yet she found herself entirely willing to follow this demon nearly anywhere.

It was surprising.

But even more so, comforting.

Little puffs of smoke came from the kitchen vents filling the gloomy passageway with smells of exquisite foods, and as they neared a new building with a single heavy metal door, her feet slowed with the lead of Mephisto, until they came to a halt. Her heart beat in her chest from the sudden dash, and although usually she would feel completely out of breath, she had never felt more alive than she did in that moment as her glittering eyes were unable to stay off of him.

Reaching his hand into his jacket, he pulled an intricately curled key from his pocket. It looked as though knotted vines make up the hilt, twisting and turning around itself until it came straight to the teeth, where it was clear to be handmade; bumps and dings from the hammer were present as it had tried to shape it. There was a certain patina to it, which had grown past green and began to turn black, showing it's weathered age.

"Starting today, I would like you to attend a sort of…private practice," he spoke from under his brim, his voice flirting with mystery. Before she could pipe up, the locks in the heavy door clicked as he turned the key. "Do mind your manners," he jested, opening the door for the girl before he stepped to the side.

She stared into the deep black for a moment, curious, trying to adjust to the light within the doorway to no avail, as it became clear he had used the first door that would be safe to pass through as another one of his portals. Glancing to the Demon King, she was met with a coy smile as he waited patiently for his human to walk through, like the gentleman he so tried to make himself out to be. She let out a sigh; not a deep, labored one, but instead one of casual delight, and although she had no idea what would be on the other side, she willingly marched through the black void as if she were walking through the bright gates to heaven, with Mephisto close behind.

The door ticked shut, sending them into a cramped dim hall of wood paneled walls. The air was thick and hazy, with a mixture of musty and herby smells that swaddled around them, penetrating their noses and eyes without permission. Down the passage, there was a flicker of dingy orange light. She peered back at Mephisto, only for him to noiselessly motion for her to continue. As she moved, quiet shuffling and tapping noises made their way to her ears, and she tried her best to creep along the squeaky wooden floor, to examine the surroundings as best as possible. The light danced along the ground, half shielded from swathes of linen draped across the entryway. As she stepped, a rustic creak made its way through the floorboards and into the room ahead, there the sounds abruptly stopped.

Whoever was in that room knew that they were no longer alone.

Mephisto's green eyes danced with the light as he watched the girl before him, her breath being taken away in the moment of subdued suspense. How senseless humans were; how adorable they were.

She stood still, the hair began to rise down her arms as the silence grew heavier. And like a great tornado, the strips of fabric before the girl whirled around, exposing the light like hellfire as it erupted against the walls and around the hunched, frazzled figure before her. A shriek of terror escaped the girl as she leapt back into the arms of a cackling demon, amused by her terror as it towed her closer and closer to him while her knees gave up on life itself.

A tiny flash of multicolored light coming from the shadow in the hallway caught the corner of her shaking eyes, and she froze. Slowly, she turned to inspect the still creature, examining its blank shadow features; it was small, hunched, with a top which appeared to be made from wispy prairie grass, and four forked horns sprouted from the head, tangled within themselves. As it shifted, the flash came again—from the center of its head, like a third eye seeing them for the first time.

Rubbing her eyes in disbelief, she quickly hopped out of Mephisto's arms and smacked his shoulder for still laughing. "Fucking asshole! Why didn't you tell me where we were going?!" With fumes blowing from her red face and out of her ears like a boiling kettle, she stomped towards the familiar figure, which stepped backwards into the dim light.

The candlelight finally rested upon the appearance of the old hag she had met months ago, playing within the crevices of her face and neck like a child playing hopscotch. Her milky irises sprung around in front of her, indecisive, trying to settle on the girl. Wiping a tear from his eye, Mephisto stepped past the curtain of shredded fabric strips, attempting to subdue his laughter and regain his formal composure. And as if he quiet hums of his chuckle were all she needed to recognize him, the old woman gasped and buckled, falling to the floor to bow ever so graciously to the King that entered her domain.

"E-excuse me?" the surprised girl stuttered, leaning to the side to get a view of the woman's unresponsive face. "Hello?"

"Don't mind her, little flower. I'm afraid she's blind as a bat and a mute, to boot," he jested through chuckles which bumped past the purple glove pressed to his mouth.

A mute? She could have sworn the old woman had spoken before in their brief encounter. Maybe she wasn't remembering correctly. "Mephisto, what are we doing here?"

"My dear, this is an old friend of mine, Catrine Monvison," he spoke with a sensual roll of the tongue, "she's an expert in...alternative chants, sutras, medicines and the like. You will be dropping Professor Okumura as your tutor, and working with Madame Monvison instead."

A twinge of protest burned within the girl, but was quickly subdued by the growing curiosity in her belly. She cocked her head. Alternatives? Her eyes darted around the room they were in, taking in the strange surroundings. The wooden floors were old and worn, the paneled walls nearly matched, but were so covered in lengthy scrolls, parchment drawings, and etchings which were nailed to them, it was hard to tell what the walls were even made from. Animal parts were suspended from the ceiling to dry along with bundles of herbs. An earthy smell of plants and spices came from the mortar on the table, where bits and pieces of vegetation and tonics were strewn about. In the corner, a fire crackled lowly under a black pot, casting shadows across the room and illuminating different sized and shaped bottles, which reflected varying colors back into the room as they sat, cramped on a large shelf. In the center of the room, a black cat rested atop a table next to a crystal ball, cleaning itself as thoroughly as possible. All along the back wall were deep shelves covered in a cluster of items, and many were packaged, wrapped, and ready to go; on the opposite wall, she noticed another doorway, cloaked in a curtain of shells, bone, and antler.

They must have been in the back of the shop.

"You'd have her teach me…witchcraft?" Her voice was laced in reservation. She had found it odd that a potential witch was living in True Cross Town, yet she had no proof of her previous accusations. Now she was certain, and she couldn't help but to wonder. If the occult was banned by the Vatican, and so, the Order, why was this woman being protected, allowed to reside in her little hole-in-the-wall shop?

A finger found its way to her lips, pressing ever so gently into them as Mephisto's face drew near. His eyes cavorted with mischief, and his voice was dark and husky as he spoke. "Let's not use words like that, shall we?" Releasing the girl, he turned to the old woman, who hadn't moved an inch from where she bowed. "Please, Madame, get up and greet your new student."

Rising to weak, wobbling legs, the old woman refused to turn her face and look directly into the face of the Demon King and the girl within his company. She kept her head low, only showing her cheek, shielding herself as one would when addressing the sheer brightness of the summer sun. Thin hands, with loose, sagging skin came up in succession, just barely coming together with openly splayed fingers as she searched. Hovering, she waited for the girl to meet her, her hands shaking like fall leaves. The girl watched carefully, trying to understand, and it wasn't until she felt the gentle nudge from Mephisto that she stepped forward and into the woman before her. Uncertain of what was expected, she hesitantly brought out a hand, and laid it over the woman's, brushing up against the skin, as dry as buffalo hide.

Madame Monvison wrapped her bones around the girl's hand, coming into full contact for just a split second, running the tip of a finger across the palm, before abruptly stumbling backwards as if the great gust of a storm had tried to push her off of her feet. The girl leaned forward and cried out, hoping to catch the woman with panic in her cloudy eyes, only to be swatted away.

"What's wrong?! What did I do?!" the girl shrieked in alarm, turning to Mephisto.

He was propped against the wall, a coy little smile on his face as he watched everything unfurl. "Nothing, my dear," he said as he stepped towards the two. "Madame Monvison is a clairvoyant, a soothsayer; she traded me her sight long ago for the ability to see with my power." He leaned down to the hunched figure of the trembling woman, sprawled across the floor, a toothy smirk curling in the corner of his mouth as he tapped the headdress of antlers and feathers with the hilt of his umbrella. The witch shuddered as the headdress was adjusted.

"Why would you want me to learn—skills such as hers?" the girl questioned.

Standing at full height, the demon king glided his way to the girl, wrapping her in his arms. "The teachings of the Vatican and the Occult are simply two sides of the same coin, are they not? And one cannot be truly prosperous if they do not use the whole coin." The look of fear twirling in her eyes along with the fire light caused his stomach do a spin, warmth growing on his skin. His thumb brushed across her rounded cheek lovingly. "I wish for you to learn as much as you can, so that you can stay by my side, and protect yourself if ever I cannot," he spoke quietly as he leaned into her, resting into a fiery kiss with his beloved little human.

The girl pushed backwards, glancing at Monvison. If she was indeed a clairvoyant, it was possible she was aware of her surroundings and what went on in them, despite how she acted. "I thought you wanted to be careful who knew?" her voice was but a whisper, unstable with apprehension. She may have trusted Mephisto, but she did not have an ounce of confidence in the witch who stood just feet away.

His brow rose as he sneered over at the woman. "She won't say a word, my dear; she had threatened to cross me just once, and so I took her tongue. Which is _precisely_ why she will take you as her student." His voice was as dark and ominous as Gehenna.

Madame Monvison swallowed the knob deep within in her gullet.

"Please know, everything that you learn here must be kept a secret, and used strictly when there is no other option," he said quietly into the girl's ear before pulling away. "Now then, I'll leave the two of you to it—I have some vermin to sniff out in my town."


	36. Chapter 36, Angel of Death

Chapter 36, Angel of Death

The night air was thin with a chill, and the wind picked up in mellow gusts, dancing about anything it could find. It was the kind of night where demons were said to roam the earth, and the gods gave you a warning to stay inside as the cold rolled in from atop the mountains. Gleaming green orbs looked down at the city of True Cross Town, lights flickering off in the distance. A white cape flapped lazily, wrapping around the man's legs before being sent off into the air once more. It was quiet as he waited, the night growing more vacant and uncaring with each passing minute.

Behind him, a dark, murky mass swirled into the air, popping and bubbling like disease as it stewed. It swelled like a boil into ring, its edges ripped and torn like a great wound in the world. Wails of demons and the dead made their way from the portal and into the empty night sky, becoming lost within the black.

The green eyes shifted gingerly to the portal, just as a shadow came to fruition. Coming through the portal, a thin leather boot, discolored and worn with time and wrapped tightly with a reedy rope, pushed through the fabric of a flowing black cloak as they stepped onto the Earth noiselessly, the soles folding around the rocks below with ease. The rest of the figure was swathed in long, draping fabric, concealing it from the world around it. As the apparition continued its way into Assiah, the tear in the universe shrinking with each step, the image of a long, curved blade made its way into the human world, a set of beads wrapped around the hilt where metal met wood as it rested against the sharp shoulders of the creature, offset by the weight of its own clawed hand.

A cloud of smoke, so ice cold that it could kill anything in its path, escaped from the void of black beneath the hood.

"Thanatos, my dear old friend," Mephisto spoke joyously. "To what do I owe this visit? It's been a very long time."

A cold, lifeless hand tore through the fabric of the cape and reached upwards, exposing slender arms heavily wrapped in decaying bandages; long fingers, ending in black nails, grabbed onto the edge of the hood and slowly peeled it back. The dim light of the night hesitantly shone upon the face which had been concealed for so long, landing on the appearance of something most curious. The hood fell down around pointed ears adorned with handcrafted jewelry, exposing the likeness of a young man with fine features; not the angular face of the demon king, but something remarkably soothing to behold. His brow was tranquil, without many the marks of age or stress. His nose was slightly elongated and thin, with a curve on the bridge, and ended in a slightly upward turning chute. His cheek bones, though prominent, were neither sharp nor angular, with the flesh of his face being full. His jaw was relaxed, and his chin rounded. His eyes, however, were deep and enchanting, drooping slightly with the weight with which he bore through the ages; a subtle, subdued sorrow that completed such a gentle look.

"Why must you insist on calling me by that name, your grace?"

Mephisto let out an arrogant laugh. "Isn't that about when you got that body of yours, though?" he asked, pointing out the boy's thick, black curls which framed his olive face accordingly. "That body is Thanatos," he jested, hinting back to the age the demon had roamed along the isles of the Mediterranean sea.

Thanatos sighed, setting the hilt of his bladed staff on to the ground. His attention was drawn to something squirming off to the side; an elongated object, swaddled in cloth, dark splotches spreading slowly.

Mephisto's eyes caught with the other demon's. "You asked to see me on such a perfect occasion; I'll need you to take that with you, I'm afraid I don't like to get my hands dirty." A calm, blank stare came from the young demon as if he hadn't heard nor seen anything new. "So, which name would you prefer I use for Death?" Mephisto then sneered, attempting to get a rise from the quiet boy while he stared him down. There was yet again no response, and his character grew graver by the second, anger rising in him like the moon tides. "Why are you here?"

"You know what I'm here for." His voice was soft and melodic.

"We had a deal," Mephisto snarled.

"She's living on borrowed time, my King. I can only do so much. You know just as well as I that I do not choose the life, I humbly bring it to Our King, Lord Satan."

"And how is it, being my father's slave, imp?" Mephisto badgered callously, glowering at the young demon.

Thanatos brushed his insults off, being used to such behavior whenever he made an appearance. "Sire, you may be of royal lineage, but you know I am hardly a mere underling." He wasn't expecting the King to use the proper honorifics granted to him by the courts of Gehenna, but he could at least sway from lumping him with the common riffraff. "I'm afraid her time is coming."

Mephisto looked back down upon the city he had spent so much time constructing over the many years he had lived in Assiah. When he spoke, he was quiet, almost submissive. "I'm doing what I can to keep her from harm."

"Which has kept me from coming earlier, Sire. But I'm afraid you know more than I do about what is to come, am I correct?" The boy paused, skimming over the still figure of his King. "The life I took in exchange only had so many years to offer."

In truth, Mephisto couldn't stomach to look into the girl's own future throughout the years, and with each one that had flown by, he knew it would be coming. But he couldn't muster the strength to see how it happened. When it would happen. Always the one to dismiss his own feelings with such insensitivity, he had casually chalked this random inability to not wishing to spoil the outcome of the game which was to commence. He was the King of Time and Space—he knew everything; everything that has been, everything that would be. But when it came to this girl, he found himself at an inexplicable loss, with each time he toyed with the idea of looking into her future, he found his body freezing. Rather than face his own reality of what was happening within him, he shrugged it off playfully, and waited eagerly for the games to begin.

And he was left without an idea how much time she had. It could have been next week. The next day. The next minute—he knew so much, yet he knew so little. Something in his center tightened at such a thought that sped through his mind. He wasn't ready to let her go.

It was an odd sensation to say the least, and his reasons for feeling such a way about a mere toy were beyond him. Instead of pondering on what was driving him, he carelessly passed the feeling off without a further thought; all he needed to know was he wasn't ready. And he always got what he wanted. "What can I do?" he asked plainly, breaking the silence as he turned to the cloaked figure. "Would you care to make another deal? A wager, perhaps-What?"

Thanatos was quiet as dark pupils moved across the King's face, recognizing something familiar in his plea. After much deliberation, his lips finally split. "Do you love her?"

The question cut through the still night air to the demon king as if he had slashed him with his scythe. Eyes wide, body ridged, he took a half step backwards to distance himself from the shock, completely taken off guard by the words that had escaped the boy's mouth.

 _Absolutely preposterous_ , Mephisto thought. Love was such a grossly human emotion; no demon in their right mind would willingly choose to open their hearts up in such a way. To be so vulnerable. They prided themselves on going against all that was human, especially emotions – love being at the top of that list. Was it even possible that the watered down things with which they did feel could grow strong enough to push aside their selfish desires? To put another being before themselves? Love. What sort of demon did he take him for?

Regaining composure, Mephisto cleared his throat. "What do you want from me?"

The boy cocked his head ever so slightly to the side, looking his King up and down with uninterested eyes. "How old is this body of yours?"

"Why are you asking such things?" he snapped, squinting an eye.

"I will allow you to exchange years off of this body, and call it even – for now."

Without giving it any thought, the Demon King slipped a glove from his hand and reached out into the hollow air between the two, where he paused, staring Death in the face. "Deal."

Thanatos tapped his nail on the handle of his bladed staff as he peered down at the bare hand before him, contemplating the deal he had set on the table. Slowly he brought out his own, but before the King could take his hand, he folded. "I must warn you, Sire: by doing this, your body will grow weaker at an increased rate the more you push it." Mephisto's face was stern and uncaring as his words passed through him. "This will not save her completely. The next time I'm ordered to bring her, I will," he warned.

Thinking it over swiftly, the King waited still, staring the compassion in the boy's eyes down with sweltering determination in his own. "Deal," he muttered.

Setting his hand back out, Thanatos allowed the King to take his to seal the deal, and as he did, the Angel of Death pricked the wrist in his grasp with a sharp nail, drawing thick blood, reaching the tendrils of his mind deep into the veins and up the Kings arm, where they began ripping at his core. Teeth clenched, Mephisto struggled to breathe, feeling weaker by the second as the transfer continued, sending his strength from his own vessel into the other. He felt his knees weaken, and although he tried to pull away, the fingers wrapped around him like vines growing over him, keeping him attached until it was done. Just as he started to buckle, the wisps receded, and Thanatos severed the contact. Heart pounding and out of breath, the demon king watched Death turn back to where he came, pulling his hood back over the tips of pointed ears sprouting from wavy black locks as he grabbed the bundle from the ground.

"Tell me, Death," Mephisto strained, an air of desolation surrounding him as he stood straight from where he was hunched over, a bloody hand print covering his knee. "How did it feel when my father took her from you?"

The sound of a dangling earring rang as his ear twitched, words sending the silenced demon into a deep remembrance. His mind rifled through the centuries, through all the faces he had heeded, the souls he had touched, until it found her face, buried in time; so benevolently beautiful. His mouth quickly became as dry as the wasteland that was his soul as he tried to speak. "It broke me," he whispered, the emotion heavy in his voice as he pulled the hood over his eyes, and continued through the gate to Gehenna.

(Author: Oh no, oh no! Whatever is going to come of this turn of events?! We'll find out soon enough...! I'd like to take the time to say: Thanatos is a version of the main character in a couple of my novels! Even though I had to change some things to fit in with the AnE universe, I gave you guys a bit of a teaser of my books, while showing that demons aren't exactly what they seem to be...Now if only Meph would stop denying himself...!)


	37. Chapter 37, Family Matters

Chapter 37, Family Matters.

 _Warning: Language_

The heavens above were blotched with crimson and orange like a watercolor painting when she had finally departed from her secret studies with Madame Monvison. She trudged through the dense forest as the sky faded, kicking at the rocks on the path, grumbling lowly as she wondered how long she would have to keep it up. She went to her University classes, and although cram school was on hiatus while her fellow exwire's were on the Kyoto mission, the day remained long, for she would trek across campus to the strange little shop and partake in lessons from the mute witch.

So far she had only a couple of these lessons in with her newfound tutor, and what a wreck they had been. It was quiet in the shop, and although the girl had been there a measly amount of time, she couldn't help but to feel the empty foot traffic was normal, although it was respectively eerie. It was quiet as the dead, only the stiffening sounds of a cat and bird fighting every once in a while as the witch sat in her chair. It seemed as though Monvison had used her powers to speak—brokenly—through the crow with a missing eye.

'Water!' it would caw at her.

And so she would rush to the sink and fetch the pail.

'Pour!' it would squawk.

And so she would begin to pour, adding the liquid to the mix in the mortar, while Madame Monvison was collecting leaves from a dried herb to add. And once there would be enough of whatever it was the girl was doing, the crow would caw brashly at her, bumping her on the head repeatedly and encasing her in wings, flapping wildly, and sending feathers that shone like poured oil, black with greens and blues moving across it like a liquid, all throughout the air. The frenzy would cause her to drop the container of whatever she held nearly every time, and it would crash against the wood, sending vibrations all around the still shop.

And then she would find five eyes fixed on her fiercely right before the one eyed crow would be sent into a fit.

'Clean! Clean! Clean!' it would screech as it fretted about, Madame Monvison shuffling down the hall to collect a mop, or a dust pan, or anything else, before tossing it at the girl with a snarl, making her mop up the water or collect the ingredients carefully and place them back into the container.

She didn't even know crows had the ability to speak. Magic was bizarre like that. It seemed irrational, unscientific; like when Mephisto did nearly anything which required his powers: highly illogical. She couldn't wrap her mind around it, and her blood boiled every time she made an attempt to understand it or why her demon wished for her to learn it so much.

It didn't help that so far she had only been ordered around the little shop like a slave, adding in whatever materials to grind down into a powder or a pulp in the mortar, or cleaning the bottles and kettles, wrapping stalks of plants into small bushels and hanging them to dry, or packaging up the items the old woman handed her in the brown butcher's paper. Madame Monvison seemed to be enjoying having someone around with eyes, and took full advantage of that fact, having her to most of the lag work.

The old wrinkled witch spent her time sitting at her table with her crow feather and ink, writing sigils and words the girl couldn't recognize onto parchment before rolling them up and handing them to her, so that she may tie them and place them on the shelves. The girl would open them a bit as she carried them, trying to make out what was scribed into the paper, as if it would teach her something or she may miraculously understand it. All of them were the same in practice; a language she had never seen before, and symbols scattered about and intertwined like the gears of a clock. Every once in a while, she was surprised to recognize a sigil she had learned in her cram classes, and when she would glance at the witch, she would be sitting with her cloudy eyes staring back while the crow watched her like a hawk would eye a field mouse.

After the second day, spending hours playing room service, she was done. Frustrated, and done. There was nothing being taught, nothing being learned, and she ached to do something more with what knowledge she had from cram school. Why wasn't she allowed to go to the Kyoto mission, now that Mephisto had given her a temptaint? It seemed ridiculous to her, and these so-called lessons with a so-called witch seemed pointless.

Stomping into the mansion, the girl peeled off her coat, which the butler took and draped over his arm. "Mephisto!" she called out in a huff. "I don't think this is going to work out with the Madame," she began whining, before catching a glimpse of the butler holding a finger to his mouth.

"Lord Faust wishes me to escort you to the formal dining room, my lady," Belial said, poised and proper. He was such an obedient demon; it made the girl wonder what Mephisto did to him to enlist his diligent service.

The inaudible wisps of voices finally made their way down the hall and to the girls ears, drawing her silent attention as she tried to make out was being said, and by whom. Of course, the dining room was far enough away that she was unable to hear the conversation, but she was able to catch the low hum of Mephisto's voice, and a shrill cackle she was all too familiar with. Her whole body began to tighten as she followed the butler to the room, her face coiling in disbelief while her stomach turned in knots. They rounded the corner to the dining room only to find the doors open, and she hadn't yet had a chance to lay her eyes on the guest before—

"My darling! There you are!" The sounds of solid wood skidding across the stone floor cut through the air and rang throughout her whole body, but nothing was more alarming then the voice that came from the person flying from the chair. "How I have missed you!"

Squeezing. The squeezing commenced. Tighter and tighter until she felt as if she couldn't breathe. _Jesus_ , was it a person or a fucking anaconda? She let out a series of grunts as she struggled before finally being released.

"Did you miss me?!" the voice came like nails on a chalkboard.

The girl tried to smile as warmly as she could, but the shock, and the blood rushing to her head was making it completely impossible. "Of course I have, mother."

"Your handsome _boyfriend_ and I have been waiting for you!"

The word entered her just as the rush of blood hit her at full force, and together they felt like a bright brick wall as her face turned a shade of scarlet. Never had she even considered calling Mephisto such things; in fact, a title was never even discussed between the two of them. Things just seemed to have…happened. And it progressed as two beings that couldn't get enough of one another, as the honey bee ravaged its flower during the springtime, both benefiting from the affair.

"Won't you come join us, dear?" came the familiar voice of Mephisto, smooth and sweet, like the kind of candy that melts in your mouth.

Her mother let out a squeal as she ruffled her feathers and trotted back into the dining room. The girl's blank eyes followed her and watched as she sat down at the table, opposite of where the demon sat. Her eyes met with his and she gave him a stern how-could-you look, but it was quickly melted away by his own eyes; for they appeared like the lush green meadows of her youth, soft and welcoming as he motioned to the chair next to him. The dissolving of any and all conflict that had been brewing within her continued down into her toes as she beheld him, and she went to him fervently as a puppy who adores its master.

Always one of grand gestures, Mephisto wrapped the girl within his arms as she neared him, pulling her down into his lap and planting a firm smooch upon her before he released her with a grin. The girl's whole body seared with embarrassment and confusion while her mother clapped happily across the dining table at the show, making some forms of statements about how lovely he was, and how lucky her daughter is to have a man like him in her life. As the girl took her seat next to him, he snapped his fingers, and the help flooded into the dining room, laying out the cutlery for the meal that was beginning to make its way to their noses.

"Oh my," her mother spewed as the help set the table before her, "how magnificent! Honey, you've done so well for yourself, I see you took my advice with this one!"

"Holy shit mom—"

Mephisto let out an amused chuckle, giving the girl a prodding glance from the corner of his eye.

"You shut up, it's nothing!" the girl snapped, face getting warmer by the second. It seemed like she was in hell already, but what game was he playing at? God knows what all they discussed, for how long, while they waited for her. Why was he allowing her mother to know about the dynamic of their so-called relationship?

 _Boyfriend—UGH._

The servers came with the first course while Mephisto and her mother engaged in more talk. It seemed as if her mother was more smitten with her demon king than her own daughter was by the tone in her voice, and how she droned on and on with questions about him.

"What do you do for a living?"

"I'm the proprietor of True Cross Town, and the director of True Cross University; they've been in the…family for generations."

The girl attempted to subdue a chortle as the two exchanged swift looks.

Her mother let out a hearty coo as she squirmed in her seat. The girl kept her eyes fixed on the salad in front of her, picking through the pieces and reluctantly pushing them into a mouth that wished to cast everything out. "And surely you've been married before, yes?" Her mother asked, causing the girl to nearly choke.

"I'm afraid not, ma'am," he answered with a light laugh.

"No? Well I'm quite surprised!" she responded as she raised a sly shoulder in front of her chin. The girl rolled her eyes. "May I ask why?"

"I'm afraid I've always been far too busy with other things, and I've never found the right companion."

Warmer. _For fuck's sake, how hot can one person get?_

"What a shame," her mother said in that fake sticky-sweet tone that she knew all too well. "But surely a man such as yourself," she began, looking what she could see of him up and down, "has children, no?"

The question hit the girl in the gut so hard she spewed chewed green cud all over the table. "Mother!"

"What? It's just a question!"

Mephisto tittered once more, watching the exchange over the table intently while Belial came and wiped off the table. The girl was obviously mortified, and he found it absolutely adorable to watch her writhe within his control. His beloved human finally turned to him with large, pleading eyes and a crinkled nose, her cheeks more flushed than he thought was even possible, and she apologized for her mother's behavior. "Not to worry, my dear, her questions do not bother me; I invited her here so we could formally meet, and the two of you could spend some time together. She can ask me what she likes, she is your family—" there was a sudden change; an intensity in his eyes- "And family is important!" he boasted, his arms extending outwards as he looked back up to the woman across the table. "In fact, I find family to be so important I wanted to take the time to introduce you to my family—"

 _No, no, no—you've got to be fucking kidding me—_

"Brother? Please come join us!"

Her eyes darted to the vacant doorway, resting, waiting as the blood pumped through her body faster and faster. The air grew dense and surrounded her with a heat she couldn't get rid of. Surely this was hell. Surely she had died, and this was hell.

Down in the corner of the entry, a black shoe made an appearance, dragging the small frame of Amaimon into view; he adjusted the sleeve of his suit, which was a green so dark it was nearly black, and was covered in a deep gold diamond speck pattern which adorned the jacket and trousers. A beige vest popped out from behind the jacket, separating it from a deep umber shirt pinstriped in a matching cream, buttoned closely to his neck and closed off by a matching gold tie, neatly tucked into his vest. The poor boy looked stiff, and tugged at his collar. As he laid eyes on the girl, he drew in a deep breath, which he held in a puffed manner.

"I said to come _join_ us, brother," Mephisto reiterated at the statue in the doorway, an unyielding expression across his face. Amaimon let out his breath through his mouth with force as he began his entrance, trying his best to stay poised and proper while showing his displeasure. His elder brother cracked a pleasant smile. "Please, meet the guest of honor, the lady's mother," he said with a motion, "and of course, meine geliebte," his voice was smooth and sultry as he looked over his human, placing a gloved hand upon hers. It wasn't often he spoke German to her in their private lives, since usually he only did it for show to keep up his façade as the German Director of True Cross; but every once in a blue moon his head would get lost in time, forgetting what century the two of them existed in during a moment, letting poetic words of different dialects and dead tongues fall from his lips and onto hers.

Standing at the side of the table, his blue eyes locked on to the girl as he pursed his lips. Mephisto cocked his head, questioning him for his mannerisms without speaking a word, a feeling that snapped Amaimon out of his trance. Gasping slightly, he turned and bowed to the girls' mother, stuttering as he greeted her quickly, before bringing his attention back to the girl before him. Their gazes of shock met as they attempted to play off the meeting. He coughed into his fist and flattened the lapel of his suit before sending himself into a frenzy, showing off his true, good, human manners as he greeted his elder brother's human lover for the first time ever in history.

"Oh, so _you're_ the girl my brother has told me so much about!" he started flamboyantly with a roll to his blue orbs, making his way behind Mephisto, who watched him wisely under low lids as he made his way to the girl.

Her eyes darted from Amaimon, to Mephito, and back to Amaimon. "That's funny, he hasn't mentioned you before," she said, trying to pacify a nervous crack in her voice.

Amaimon turned and looked the ominous figure of his brother in the eye, jaw unhinged in a pretend surprised fashion he heard was common with humans. "He _hasn't_?! Now what kind of manners are those?" he jabbed, cocking his head. He continued on to the girl. "I must say, my lady—often my brother would speak of your loveliness and compare it to his gardens," he held out a hand for her, which she nervously accepted, "but they simply don't begin to measure up to your beauty!" He strained before placing a simple kiss on the top of her hand, peering up at the flustered girl.

Mephisto's amused expression curled into something rather distasteful at his younger brother's obnoxious display, and his green eyes pierced through him like spears as he made his way to his seat. "Yes, I'm afraid I'm at a loss for words when it comes to her," he finally replied, warming his façade as he looked over to the girl, tightening his hand around hers. He calmed into a truth once he saw her smile back at him. "I'm afraid I'm quite taken with her."

The girl glanced down, a sweet pink gracing her face as her mother yipped excitedly. "Oh I'm so happy for the both of you!"

Amaimon slumped into his chair, shoving the food placed before him into his mouth.

"Yes; in fact, my lady," Mephisto cawed, looking up to the girl's mother, "She has decided to quit her job and move in here, with me!"

Reality shattered. Her jaw dropped. "W-what?! I have not!" she yelped through the screeches from her mother and the gasp from Amaimon. What on earth was Mephisto doing, now?

"Of course dear," he tutted lovingly. "You must have just been tired that morning."

"I really don't think we talked this over." Her brow furrowed.

"I've already taken the liberty of sending in your letter of resignation, and I'm giving you this to purchase whatever you need or want," he said, pulling a card from his pinstriped pocket; it was a light pink that glowed gold as the light moved across it, featuring the True Cross emblem on the front.

 _What—_

"OH how wonderful, my baby is moving up in the world!" Her mother yelled as she popped up onto the chair, her hands sprawling out over the table. "How serious are we talking?!" she questioned, face beaming like a lighthouse. "You know I want grandbabies!"

Amaimon turned as white as a ghost.

"MOTHER!"

Noting the horror in his human's eyes, he merely laughed through the growing tension. "I'm afraid we're a ways off from such thoughts, madam," he said as she sat back down in her chair. "So sorry to disappoint."

It was then that the bubbly Japanese theme ripped through the center of the table. Mephisto jumped, scrambling into his pocket to retrieve the pink phone and answered it as quickly as possible. His face froze, and then grew increasingly more dark as everyone looked on intently. "I see. Thank you for the update. I'm counting on you all." He hung up as he stood from his seat. "I'm afraid I will have to cut dinner short for myself, it seems my youngest brother has gotten himself into a bit of trouble, and I'm unsure when I shall return."

Amaimon gave his elder brother a vaguely interested look.

 _That means…Rin…?!_

"Oh no~!" the girl's mother cooed. "Shall I get going then?

"Yeah," the girl muttered under her breath.

"Nonsense my lady," Mephisto started warmly, "Please spend some time with your daughter, I will have my servants prepare one of the guest rooms for you. I'll see to it that my driver takes you home in the morning."

"So generous!" her mother wailed with a massive shit-eating grin. Turning to her daughter, she placed the back of her hand to the side of her cheek, and spoke just loud enough that everyone might understand what she was saying. "You make sure that pussy is ripe and ready; don't let him get away from you."

 _Jesus Christ!_ What was left of her dignity melted into her shoes at that point, as she was sure everyone had to have heard. It wasn't as if her mother necessarily tried to hide what she was saying. The thought of spending hours with her, in the same house, for a whole night ate at her. She had hastily accepted the scholarship invitation almost strictly so she could get away from this woman.

Scurrying after Mephisto as he left the dining hall, she began muttering an objection before he turned to her, bringing her into a close embrace. "Please," he nearly begged, "Spend some time with her. You never know how much time you have with family."

The desperate look upon her face faded away with the softness of his voice, and she knew he was right. It wasn't often that he wasn't. She may not have been looking forward to it, but she nodded slightly as her lip quivered, and he kissed her forehead. "What's happened? Where are you going?"

He let out a sigh, debating whether or not he should tell her, but the inquisitive expression softened him once more; he was powerless against her. "The Impure King has been revived, and I'm afraid the Exwire's are in a bit of a predicament." Her eyes shuddered to a panic, and he grazed his thumb over her cheek in a feeble attempt to calm her. "Don't worry my dear, sweet flower; I'm going to make sure everyone is alright. Stay here, and stay safe."


	38. Chapter 38, Defiance

Chapter 38, Defiance.

She tried. She really did. But the fact that her mother kept droning on and on about how happy she was that her daughter had finally found a man—a man with money—made the girl's insides twist with contempt, as if her mother was inadvertently saying the only accomplishment that was worth anything was landing a man who could take care of her. Never mind any accomplishments she had ever made in life. Never mind all the hard work and the hours she had ever spent on her dreams or on school. The studying, the homework, the tests, the stress; it wasn't as impressive as a man.

But of course, if she would say anything in her own defense, she would be scolded.

No one back-talks mother.

What mother said is God's law.

And on top of everything, her mother had started rambling to Amaimon about her glory days and how good looking she had been back-in-the-day as soon as her daughter clammed up.

And so she ate in a heavy silence, ears fuming like the spout of a kettle when it was ready to boil over. Every once in a while, she glanced up from her plate to see the reaction on Amaimon's face when her mother said something that would make even the most solid man uncomfortable. Surely, she thought, he would be as unnerved as she. But when she would look at him, she only found him silent and staring; it made her feel even more awkward.

And even still, she was so unsure of why Mephisto had brought her mother to the mansion in the first place—without even talking to her about it. She was fairly positive she had mentioned the strained relationship to him in the past, and how she didn't enjoy being around her own mother because she wasn't that great of a person. _Did he just not listen to me when I talked about her? Fucking asshole,_ she thought as she ground the food down within her jaws. What gave him the right to bring this woman here? Because he was the director of True Cross University? Because he was the Honorary Knight of the Order? Because he was the Demon King Samael?

She scoffed to herself, which must have been louder than she anticipated, due to it making her mother stop mid-sentence and give her a harshly questioning look.

The girl tossed her fork down with a clank as she stood, dusting herself off. "I'm full," she said in a tone laced with irritation. From experience, it was better to leave than stay for the upcoming quarrel that would most likely commence all because her mother loved to assume everything and never listened to reason. She would rather do anything, or be anywhere else, than in the room with her mother at that moment.

In fact, she _should_ be in Kyoto with the rest of the exwires.

With a plain expression, Amaimon watched the girl being whisked away by her emotions as she stormed out of the room. He found that his lips parted as she passed, but no words came to him. And she had that kind of effect on people, leaving them speechless; for true art made you feel something words couldn't touch and her soul was a beautiful shade of blue drowning in her red sea. She might not have been the quick, trivial beauty that vanity craved—no, she was more than that. Her ocean was too vast to navigate, and too dark to swim in, but for those who looked just a bit longer were moved by the waves she made with each stride. And he was a desert begging for water each time he looked her way.

Her mother grunted once the girl had left the room. "She's in one of her foul moods again." Amaimon turned to the woman, eyeing her with queries. "She gets like this from time to time," she said, breathing out heavy through the chin that was trying to double, fingers searching a carton for a cigarette. "She's always been such a weak child, with her head in the clouds. When she gets like this, it's as if her whole world has come crashing down around her."

A flick of fire, a plume of smoke.

Before Belial could make it to the table with an ashtray and offer the aging woman one of the guest bedrooms, Amaimon finally stopped holding his tongue. "You're wrong," he cracked loudly, quickly taking to his feet. And it was actually _sad,_ he thought, that someone's own mother couldn't see them for who they were.

The girl flopped onto the mattress in the master bedroom, the plush comforter puffing up around her like pink clouds on a late summer sunset, like the kind of evening that's coupled with long, content sighs. But all the happy in the room couldn't bring her out of the grey, and in that moment she felt the first touch of abhorrence for the bright colors which pinged in her eyes like blades, the obnoxious amount of pillows that encroached upon her space, and the bubbly smiles staring at her from the walls with their beady eyes. Just as Amaimon went to knock, movement through the crack caught his attention, and he watched as she thrashed, scattering pillows about the room, pushing down the pink that threatened to swallow her whole, growling with distaste until she finally laid flat, pushing a pillow onto her face as she roared. She had always come off so independent, diplomatic, and detached, as if the words or thoughts of others never bothered her, but from the moment he had first set eyes on her he knew she was deeper than that. He had seen the beauty in everything that she was, and he had sat, impatiently pondering the depths of her sea; though it wasn't until he had met her, that he had touched her, that he had begun to understand.

Perhaps that was a part of the reason why he couldn't get her off of his mind, the reason why he felt such a need to be near her—although she could play it off well, she bore enough emotions for the both of them, and the husk that was his body leeched off of it. It was addicting. And it wasn't until this moment that he realized how alike he must have been to his own brother; how he would be willing to drown in order to keep her afloat in the storm.

Sitting up, the girl let out a heavy sigh, turned on the large television and skimmed through channel options, never to be satisfied with a single one, not even her usual choices. She was too exhausted to play video games, too irritated to enjoy her favorite shows, but too restless to sit around. And there was no way she was going out of the room where her mother could pester her again, or Amaimon could stare at her some more. The sounds from the television sounded far off in the background as her gaze shifted in and out; she was lost in thought, yet nothing was coming to her in the grey storm that surrounded her, repeating the same things over and over again: her mother, Mephisto, Amaimon, the Impure King. Her eyes shifted blankly around the room, her teeth grinding together, until they landed on the balcony. The glass door was cracked ever so slightly, letting a cold breeze flow in and toy with the curtains.

She sat on it for some time, studying the night air as it danced, twirling around the fabric before falling and dissipating against her skin. And then, she had an idea.

Launching to her feet, she rummaged through the closet for her things, grabbing her bag and pulling a sweater over her head as she stumbled out, her boots half on. Her hand dove into her bag, fishing around for paper—for the right paper—and pulled it out, flashing it to her eyes to be sure. Typically, she would have yelped as she bit down upon her own hand, drawing blood, but the past few nights with her beloved demon, along with her sense of hurry at the moment, seemed to have effectively numbed her for the time being. Her canine sunk into the flesh, and she spread the blood upon the scrap of paper, simply beckoning Fenrir by name before shoving the piece of paper between her jaws, her hands quickly becoming occupied with lacing her shoes.

The typical grand entrance from the wolf demon, adorned with lights flickering and a black haze that amassed into the beast. She was becoming used to this whole demon thing, and from everything Mephisto had shown her, little would put her in an awestruck state. In fact, she was beginning to find these entrances tedious and silly. What demon thought so highly of themselves that they needed to make such a scene each time they came?

Glancing up, she was met with the looming figure of a seated Fenrir, waiting patiently, his sharp eyes on her. "You've gotten bigger," she said.

"And you reek of demon," he growled lowly. His thick black coat puffed as she snapped a hard look at him. "My apologies, I thought we were stating the obvious." His voice was low and unamused as he looked off into the night sky. "I take it the girl hasn't listened to my advice?"

"And what would that be?" she spat, putting her hands on her hips.

"To beware of the Trickster King."

"Fenrir, I have no idea what you're talking about—and I appreciate you looking out for me but that's not important right now. What is important is my friends could be killed out there and I'm tired of being a sitting duck."

His pupils dilated as he scanned over her, acknowledging her eagerness. "Do you know what is out there?" The voice was low; a quiet rumble.

She tossed her bag over her shoulder with a huff. "I don't _care_ , I just need to make sure my friends aren't in danger."

Fenrir's jaws snapped quickly, a large blue tongue escaping his mouth for a brief moment. "Indeed, they are." It was clear to the great demon that this human knew nothing of the dangers which lurked in the dark.

Her eyes exploded in size as she bolted for the demon, hands wrapping around the thick fur as she attempted to climb. "If you're sure, then we have to go Fenrir; I have to try to help!" He peered down at her, a deep, contemplative growl rumbling within his chest before he stooped down. She hoisted herself up, breathing heavy by the time she nestled onto his neck. He may not have wanted to take her into a battlefield where demons would lie in wait, but he would have to diligently follow her orders. Regardless of the outcome.

Opening his great jaws, he let out a shrill bark which echoed throughout the mansion, blasting the glass from the doorway before he sprung through it; and like a whirlwind, the two blew through the night, the girl burying herself in his fur, clinging for life.

Outside of the bedroom door, Amaimon had danced in place anxiously, unsure whether to intervene or just to watch as he was ordered. The power of the wolf demon shook the whole mansion and echoed down to his bones, where he shook in horror, knowing his brother would be livid once he told him this news. His stomach churned at the thought of the hellfire that might break loose while he paced in front of the door, trying to deduce the best way possible to break it to his brother, glancing down at the servants as they rushed through the mansion to the cracking windows and to the guest room to settle the girls' mother. Quite a stir she had made; but he knew it was only to get worse.

* * *

Mephisto blew his nose as he sniggered joyously, watching the scene below as the army of exorcists moved to try to vanquish Astaroth's Impure King. They were making no headway, and he couldn't wait to see how everything would play out.

Slowly, Amaimon pulled up behind his elder brother, his mouth full of cotton. He tried to speak, but found he shook instead.

He cleared his throat.

Mephisto turned to look at his brother, wiping his nose once more with a tissue. "Amaimon? What are you doing here? I thought I told you to keep watch tonight."

His voice was froggy as he stuttered. "A-about that…t-there seems to be a p-problem."

The elder demon stared his brother down, not thinking too hard on what the issue could have been, but instead more upset he was disobeying orders. "Well, out with it," he pushed, thinking the girl and her mother must have gotten in some sort of a fight that he would have to console later. Nothing that couldn't wait; he would prefer Amaimon went back to make sure his human didn't get into any sort of trouble.

Amaimon looked down as he twiddled his thumbs. "It seems she's...on her way here."

There was an alarming silence that fell all around them, even dimming the sounds of struggling from below. As Amaimon looked up to assess his brother's reaction, he was met with the fires of Gehenna being stoked while his face coiled something foul.

"What...?" Mephisto snarled, his eyes igniting.

(Author: Awe snaaappp! Anyhooo~ Sorry it's taken me a while, those of you that follow my Tumblr might have seen my recent posts, but there's been a lot going on in my personal life recently, so these last couple chapters have taken a lot for me to write, and I'm sacrificing content quality a bit here just to keep it going. I will of course be editing this whole fic once it's finished since it's all basically rough drafts, so thanks for hanging in there, bear with me for a bit my dears3)


	39. Chapter 39, A Fight so Pure

Chapter 39, A Fight So Pure.

 _Warning: Language._

Fenrir tore through the night like a giant black bullet, the girl nestled into his great mane, where she gripped on for dear life as the wind ripped across them like knives threatening to tear away at any bits of skin that were exposed. The only shield provided was that of his fur, moving over her like whips, but at least they didn't feel like the cold razorblades of the night air. She was astonished by the sheer speed of the wolf, and was stuck to him so fiercely by the vortex that surrounded him, that she only had a chance to look up when he slowed—barely. They broke free of the tree cover, passing through a residential area of a few homes, which illuminated the night outside their flickering windows. Fenrir never stopped, but his paws became as silent as the air, and he bounded from each roof, the clatter of clay shingles being the only noise that echoed throughout the empty sky. He pushed off of the last house with a great effort, the shingles on the roof dispersing from his claws as they raked the surface and burst outwards as he launched himself up into the still air.

She watched the serene little houses grow smaller down below, and mumbled an apology for the damage. Surely they had heard very little, except for the last house; she watched the lights turn on, beaming out into the thick black.

It was then that a smell most horrid had sneaked into her nose, and her sight ripped forward, where she could see something bubbling above the tree tops in the horizon, pledging to cloak the sky in its demise. And without a word of explanation, without a warning from her demon steed, she knew that this was their ultimate destination.

The Impure King was alive and well, and would destroy everything in its path if given the chance.

It felt as if they hovered in air for so long in their vantage point, both of their eyes wide as they looked on the scene far away. It was quiet in this part of the forest, and the horrors before them were so surreal. She would have written everything off as a dream, perhaps a bit lucid at best, had she not been struck by a sudden wave of power, so far off in the distance. It felt like fire—anger and desperation smoldering into one. _What in the world is happening out there,_ she wondered. Surely her fellow exwire's were out there, somewhere, fighting that demon. But it was nearly impossible to sense them under the blanket of power that radiated out like a beacon.

A low rumble came from the beast beneath her, and the two began cascading back to earth, Fenrir's legs sprawled awaiting impact. The wind danced with her hair and as they neared the trees she burrowed back into the thick black fur, which shielded her from the branches as they snapped and broke on their way down. As soon as his toes felt soil, Fenrir was off, darting through the trees as fast as he could once again.

Smoke began to cloud the air as they grew closer.

The scent of death and rot burned heavy with the trees.

The sounds of voices and shrieks became lost in the struggle.

A force so overwhelming loomed all around them.

Fenrir's strides slowed immediately to a much less urgent lope. The girl let out a cough as her lungs and eyes burned, and quickly he stopped in his tracks. "Cover yourself; there is a demon's fog here," he barked. Without hesitation, she pulled her scarf up around her nose.

They must have been close; was it the Impure King she felt?

"Can we get up high enough to see what's going on?" she asked from beneath the fabric. Perhaps they might be able to locate the exwires if she could just _see._ The waves of energy she felt surging like a migraine were blinding her from being able to focus on any other senses.

A deep growl came from below. "No good. We must stay low from here on out." He picked up his feet, moving quietly through the forest, dodging tree trunks and moving around low branches like a whirl of wind as they made their way up the mountainside.

She let out a heavy, defeated sigh. "Can you tell where they are?"

"Your friends are near, fighting the demon."

The girl gripped onto the fur intensely. "Take me to them!" She cried, but the wolf didn't speed up. Off to the side, a hoard of exorcists caught her eye, and she watched them run down the hill, nearly falling from their speed. Shrieks of terror escaped them as they scattered from one another. Desperation welled up inside of her, where it burst out in the name of her familiar. "Fenrir!" He skidded to a halt. "Take me to my friends, now!"

The wolf was quiet still as he stood, and slowly she came out of her determination, distracted by the surroundings once more. A thick black haze covered the forest, so much that her scarf had begun to turn colors from the soot attempting to enter her lungs. She pinched the fabric between her fingers, and rubbed them together, eyeing the black on her fingertips. A scream pierced through her, and she watched an exorcist fall to the grassy floor, scrambling to get to their feet before a putty-like mass slid over them, only to be helped up by another exorcist. Most were coughing; some were falling to their knees, letting out cries of agony, perhaps for their physical pain or from losing a comrade. Some were running without a second thought of helping pthers, while some stopped to assist the ones who couldn't go on any farther, carrying them on their shoulders and backs. The look of defeat on their faces was deafening, and they darted past the demon wolf without much thought—there was a much bigger threat to their lives than a creature nearly four times the size of a normal wolf. Something huge was taking lives, and choking everyone it couldn't take, and along the outskirts of the confrontation, exorcists were beginning to flee.

"My duty is to protect you," Fenrir finally spoke, a low, quiet hum. "I will do as you say, but only if you aren't blinded by your human emotions. To run into this conflict is a death trap. Your friends are scattered, fighting as they can."

Her eyes rested on a screaming exorcist with a broken ankle, being taken over by the rotting mass that moved down the mountain. A small group of exorcists trotted past, and only one broke off to give some aide, grasping the fallen brother by the arm, and pulling with all of his might. But no matter how hard he tried, the mass slowly crept up the body, engulfing it, and spreading out, threatening to move up the arms of the able body before it. She watched in horror as the fingers broke free, and he turned to run again.

"Fenrir—" The girl started, her body moving all on its own, sliding down the leg of the great demon. His jaws snapped at her just as she began running, catching her sweater with his front tooth, where she tore free of him, her feet taking her across the ground to the place where the exorcist was being swallowed. Her eyes searched the mass, searching for any signs of life; somewhere in there was a person who needed help. Just as she was about to reach out, the great wolf demon darted in front of her, growling wildly. "He will die if we don't do something!" She cried.

She was a senseless, willful girl at times, and Fenrir knew it. He had known going to Kyoto, to fight the Impure King, was a terrible idea, but he couldn't say no to his human. He owed her his life, and he would defend hers until he was no more. She was his Queen, and he her humble servant.

"Please!" Her eyes glistened.

Humans were complicated—so selfless at times, and so stupid. He let out a thundering grumble as he turned to the crawling mass, biting down into it, searching for the body. Surely this human meant nothing to the girl, and yet she was ready to risk her own life for it? He couldn't even sense this feeble human it was so weak. The mass moved in towards the wolf as he made contact, spreading around his front paws, and up the long snout that had entered into it. As Fenrir searched, pushing through, the mass moved to envelop him, moving up his legs and over his head and starting down his body; it was then that his jaws skimmed something—it could have been a branch, but he moved around it, securing it within his fangs as the mass went to engulf him completely.

The girl slumped to her knees, the tears starting to bead up in her vision. The Impure King had swallowed up the demon wolf, her familiar, and she was to blame. How idiotic could she have been to think she could have done anything, if Fenrir himself wasn't able to do it?

A few more AWOL exorcists ran past her, only a couple looking her way as they did, though none of them helped her up, or stopped to make sure she was okay. Fear always did do that sort of thing to humans; it was always you or them, and typically, most humans would choose to save themselves over anyone else. The only time a human chose another person over themselves was when one was so pure of heart – empaths, they might be known as – or in the instance of love. Love could often turn the most self-absorbed human into a selfless pile of rubble. Though, demons typically weren't very different in these regards; a demon outside of a contract would always choose themselves. Though, the rules set out by the courts of Gehenna were different than those of Assiah, and such selfishness was actually encouraged. To live life was to live it for oneself; it was only looked down among humans because demons regularly gave into their selfish desires, and all throughout history tried to tempt humans into following in their footsteps.

But fear made humans forget how demonized being selfish was in Assiah.

Fear made humans, who were sworn to duty, abandon their posts, their comrades, and civilians they said they would protect.

Fear made humans look the girl in the eye, and not have a fleeting thought of saving her in the case that she wasn't able to save herself.

Fear turned a blind eye. Fear made excuses. Fear reasoned, she could easily get up and run down the hill at any point. Fear convinced that she would indeed get up, just as they passed, and she would make it to safety. That they didn't need to worry about anything but their own two feet.

But she wasn't scared. Not even as the body of the Impure King crawled and stretched towards her. Not even as thoughts of it swallowing her up, where she might suffocate and die. She had many fears, but here, where her friends where lost somewhere in the forest fighting for their lives, she had none. Maybe anyone else might have felt at a loss as crippling fear set in, whispering thoughts of death into their ear so strongly they felt it was the easiest way to go; but she couldn't give up.

She took to her feet, wiping a tear from her cheek as she stepped back from the mass. It was beginning to overtake the trees now, as more and more made its way down. She wasn't sure how she could help, but she knew she wanted to do something – anything. Saying a few choice words for a protection barrier chant, she started off, heading deeper into the woods. It wasn't long at all before she was finally surrounded, the mass moving up and around her barrier as it encased her like an eggshell, threatening to crumple it.

Before she could do anything, she saw a burst off in the distance, from where she had left the lump that was Fenrir. The bubbling mass rose up like bread in an oven, before finally exploding upwards into the trees as a grey gust of wind propelled it up and out, away from the center; a wind force so strong it reached the spot the girl stood, surrounded by the Impure King, and she struggled to stand against it as the rot was blown away. Her eyes lay rest on Fenrir, taking to his feet, a slumped figure in his jaws. Within the blink of an eye, the wary demon was at her feet, panting heavily as he dropped the body.

She burst with joy, leaping into the great wolf's mane, burying her face into him. "I thought I had lost you!" She cried out.

"It appears it wasn't my time, girl," he thundered. "As for this one," He spoke, looming over the wounded exorcist, "I'm not sure there's much else I could do."

The girl fell to the forest floor, placing two fingers beneath his ear where there was a weak pulse. Pulling the scarf from her soot-covered face, she rolled him onto his back and proceeded to give him mouth to mouth in hopes of reviving him. Fenrir laid upon the ground, letting his tongue fall from his fangs, his eyes scanning the woods around them as the human beside him pushed onto the chest of the fading one, whispering chants beneath her breath for what seemed like minutes.

And then suddenly, the exorcist took a shallow breath, and coughed up black before he was able to breathe again. The girl's face lit up, and she took to the nearest tree to find ample sticks, where she lashed it to his let to set his ankle and ripped a part of her sweated off to make him a mask. He wasn't able to stand, but with the girl's help, he crawled onto the back of the exhausted Fenrir, who let out a meager growl in protest, ultimately allowing the girl to do as she pleased. As she situated herself upon the wolf, he rose to his feet, and they took off into the thick of the woods once more, an extra human in tow.

"Why are we carrying him," Fenrir griped. "Why not just take him back down?"

"We're here to help my friends, so we're not turning back" she replied, looking forward into the trees.

"Why not leave him? He'll only get in the way."

She glared down at the demon. "We'll find a group of exorcists to take him down the mountain."

Fenrir's eyes widened as her words entered him, and he abruptly turned to the right, almost launching the incapacitated exorcist from his back. He ignored the girls' plea for explanation as they lost elevation. She cried out orders to take her back up the mountain towards the Impure King, but was stopped as the sounds of rushing water, clattering, splashing, and yelling made their way to their ears. Through the trees, she caught the sight of a small group of exorcists, fighting along the riverside, to keep the bubbling rot away. She reasoned Fenrir must have either heard or sensed them and took it upon himself to fulfill her orders - there was no time to question his motives.

As they escaped the tree cover, Fenrir took a great leap into the air, releasing a loud bark, a windstorm escaping him, tearing through the Impure King's rotting mass like a tornado, sending bits and pieces flying from where he landed, the ground crunching below his feet. The exorcists let out a sigh of quick relief, only to become worried about the demon that stood before them on the shore.

The girl wrapped her arms around the man, and slid down Fenrir's leg, trying to keep him from hitting too hard. "I need help!" she called, but the exorcists were frozen in place, too terrified of the demon who's growls became louder with each passing second, his hair standing on edge as his lips curled back from his fangs. She quickly smacked Fenrir on the leg, and he licked before shutting his snout. "He's been hurt, I need help!" She cried out once more, attempting to hoist the dead weight up enough to move him closer.

Almost immediately, one of the exorcists broke from the water and rushed to the girls' side, where she helped the girl lay the hurt exorcist out for inspection. A couple men quickly followed, and the remaining two exorcists gave each other a look, choosing to stay thigh-deep in the river. The woman ordered the men to carry the wounded back down to the base camp, and the hastily pulled him up over their shoulders.

Just as they were departing, the rotting mass exploded out from the trees for the exorcists, like a predator waiting to strike its prey. Fenrir whipped his tail around, sending just some of it back with a blast of air, and he looked for the human girl in a panic. A massive amount erupted from the hills above, flowing down into the river, sweeping the two exorcists away. The two men stopped, losing formation, half dropping the wounded exorcist, only to be yelled at by the woman who was of obvious higher class to continue on without anyone else.

Spotting the girl, who was trying to redo her protective barrier, Fenrir jumped towards her, grabbing her by the torn and tattered sweater, and began dragging her off towards the woods. She watched as the woman drew her sword – but what use could a sword have against something that swallowed everything it touched. The two exorcists splashed in the river, just a few feet downstream; one was holding onto a wedged log, while the older was gripped tightly in the first one's free hand, and they struggled to keep above the rushing water as the mass attached to them weighed down terribly. And then, another rush flowed up and over the trees, coating everything in long strings, like a sort of taffy—except it smelt like a thousand corpses. Fenrir stopped, looking for a way out, and another rush swept the woman into the river.

The river. That was their only way out.

Fenrir turned and darted, heading straight for the water, where most of the rot floated on top of the surface. The woman was nowhere to be seen, potentially weighed down by the mass attached to her; and the girl cried out once more.

"We have to help them!"

Why was she like this?

He soared into the air above the river, dropping the girl from his jaws just as he did so, letting her flop onto the ground, and he dove into the water ahead. She watched from the shore, deciding that getting into the river was safer than staying on the land, where the Impure King's rot continued to creep towards her, hungry. A splash caught her attention, and she turned to see the woman fling from the water screaming, sword still in hand, the sticky mass all around her. The girl looked back and forth, and finally caught the image of Fenrir coming up for air downstream, headed for the two exorcists barely clinging for dear life.

She reached into her bag and pulled out her handgun and a few spare explosion rounds, blowing a ward into them as she cupped them in her fist, and loaded them into the chamber as she stepped deeper and deeper into the water, the bubbling, gooey mass getting closer and closer off-shore. Raising her pistol, she shot twice, hitting the brunt of the rot near the woman, which exploded into flames and dispersed. Just as she thought; fire was most effective against Astaroth's rot. The senior exorcist was released, but still being drug down below the surface, and she rushed downstream towards the girl, who managed to catch her and hold her close.

Just like anything else she seemed to do, it backfired horribly. The rotting mass attached to the exorcist woman's lower half quickly attached itself to the girl, and the two of them struggled together to keep from being ripped of their footing as they moved into the water, away from the rot from off shore, the sand below their feet getting more and more loose with each step they took. Finally, they were at an impasse—to step further and fall downsteam into the raging river, or to stand and let the mass of rot sweep over them. Either way, suffocating seemed imminent.

The girl tried to turn her head from the tacky mass, and caught a glimpse of Fenrir in the distance, pulling the exorcists ashore; he was covered in rot, and each step he took caused more and more to attach to him. She called out for his help, and when he realized he would not be able to save the two exorcists and his human, he abandoned them on the shore, where they were overtaken and engulfed by the mass.

He tried with all his might to jump to her, but the rot had such a great hold on him. He tried to flick his tail, but it was firmly glued to his side. He let out a fierce bark, which sent a whirlwind out around him, only to free his legs enough to pull them one by one, slowly. The water splashed where the girl was as she tried to move downstream a ways, and towards the shore, but the rot finally overcame the two, and no longer could they move their legs, causing them to fall into the water. The great wolf demon tried again and again to free himself, to make it to the girl in time, to protect her as he swore to do, but his powers were useless against the strength of the paste that was the Impure King.

The girls gasped for air as they went down, and everything went quiet under the water. Moonlight shone through the ripples at the surface, in between the dark that was floating on top; she tried as hard as she could to pull herself from it, to free a single arm. As they held their breaths, the two exorcists looked at each other as best as they could in the dim light while the rot moved up their bodies, extending down into the water around them from the sheer amount of it.

After fighting for so long, the girl got to witness the first person formally give up, right before her very eyes; she had looked down, and all around her, only to meet eyes with the young exwire and smile sweetly, air bubbles escaping her nostrils and cracked mouth.

There's a large majority of people who would have you believe death is beautiful, maybe even poetic; that you decide to let go and suddenly you fade away into the nothingness blissfully. But the truth is, it's bullshit. And the girl witnessed it first hand, staring into the eyes of another human who thought giving up to death was the best way to go when all else seemed hopeless. The last bubble escaped her, and she looked peaceful for just a moment, until her body tried to inhale automatically.

She had never seen such fright, or pain, or regret in someone's eyes as she did that senior exorcist. She heard the muffled screams just before as she struggled to kick to the surface, but the rot pulled her under even more as it moved up her body. She thrashed as much as she could, looking into the exwire's eyes, begging, pleading for release—for air. No one thinks it will hurt when you decide to go, but it does.

And the girl knew it hurt more than her own shriveling lungs, which were being crushed by the weight of themselves, as if a ton of bricks had been laid on them. And she knew, as she watched the pain subside from the woman's eyes, as she watched her body stop twisting, jerking, and twitching, that soon this would be her. That her mind would tell her body that it needed air, and as much as she wanted to clamp her mouth shut, soon she would take in the water. And they would be the same.

She stayed determined though, as her lungs expanded ferociously in her chest, threatening to break free of her rib cage in order to achieve their goal. She wanted nothing more than to never go through such pain and agony, and instead held her breath, as tightly as possible. Her heart thumped wildly against the wall of her chest, as if the two were working in tandem. The mass moved its way up and around her body. Her lungs felt as though they were crawling up her throat, to open her mouth themselves in order to breathe the night air. Even the sooty miasma filled air would do. Wouldn't it be disappointed when it was water?

Damn, it hurt.

What was she waiting for?

Why not just take a breath, and let it be over with?

It was obvious there was no way out of this. It was over. Demons had won, had taken her, had their way with her, chewed her up and spit her back out.

 _God, I'm an idiot_ , she thought.

If only she could do it again. She'd be a better daughter. She'd make sure to spend less time studying, and have more friends instead. She'd live an actual life for herself, instead of being so focused on learning the secrets of spirits and demons. The moment she got her temptaint, her whole life's goal was basically complete. What did she have to show for it? Look where it had gotten her. Maybe she should have stayed at the mansion. Maybe she should have listened.

 _God, I am a fucking idiot._

But still, as weak as she was becoming, she held her breath. And still, the mass moved up her, encasing her. And then everything went dark. She was floating soundlessly as the pain inside her burned like hell. But there was something, some power out there, keeping her fading mind alive. And then she was on fire. Her arm twisted. Her head hit a rock. Air kissed her cheek, and she took in a deep breath. It was hot. Everything was hot. Why was it hot? She cracked open an eye, only to see the black blur of Fenrir splayed on the ground. He was so far away. There was a white blur in front of it. Something else, some other blur, popped up, and pulled Fenrir into it before disappearing.

The white blur moved closer.

Why was it so hot?

(Author: I didn't realize this was so long until I finished it, but enjoy~)


	40. Chapter 40, The Sea and the Flame

Chapter 40, The Sea and the Flame.  
 _Warning: Language, Triggers_

Her skin was boiling.

The world seemed so far away as she waded in the black. A flapping rang deep into her ear drums, pounding them to a pulp. It sounded like wings. She blinked again, the world spinning, rocking up and down, left and right—the white figure caught her eye, so bright and ethereal. She tried to focus on it while everything moved around as if she were on an amusement park ride. Her chest scratched, and she let out a cough. The white wings flapped in the wind behind the figure.

 _God, let it be an angel._

It shrank to the ground, looming over where she lay.

Heavy lids blinked once more, and her head rolled about her shoulders, away from the blur. Her body felt loose and limp, abandoned. She couldn't feel anything except hot, like maybe she wasn't really in the vessel.

 _Maybe this is death?_

Bright red and orange flickered along the ground, which moved like a mirage in the desert. The ringing in her ears began to give way, replaced by the sounds of fire crackling violently as it ate away at any vegetation it could reach. For what seemed like years, she watched the little flames dance, upside down, like miniature demons tasting Assiah for the very first time. It didn't seem real until the quicksand ground began to solidify itself, the world slowing to a rhythmic bob like a raft on the waves, and she could make out the faces of the little demons, orange and yellow as they hopped and skipped towards the sky.

Which was—down?

Her skin tingled, investigating the ground beneath her back, warm like a lovers embrace.

Shifting, her orbs revolved in her skull as her head tried to make sense of the new direction, and the blurry angel in front of it once more. With each blink, it became more and more clear. Long, white arms stretched out to her, purple hands coiling around her. Then she was off the ground.

Pressure.

Looking down, her feet kicked out loosely through the night air.

More pressure. Her lids closed in a tight wince.

The warm ground met her feet, and she could feel it radiating up into her heels. Her senses began sparking, reconnecting after the loss of oxygen, and suddenly, as she stood looking at the pairs of boots, water dripping onto the ground, turning the dirt to mud, her vision was crystal. And then, she sensed something, something in the air that wasn't right. That intense energy she had felt—the anger, the anguish—was right by her, consuming everything around it in its flare, overpowering everything in existence until it was just she, the sound of the river lapping against the shore, and the flames.

And she could sense the eyes. The ones she had always known. The ones that looked over her, and watched her sleep, that brought her in and undressed her, peeling the flesh from her bones until she was nothing but a soul. A lost, blue soul.

The red and yellow fire seemed to grow dim as the eyes and the fires grew before her, the world going dark and still. Slowly, her pupils moved up the white, laced with soot and scorch marks. The sleeves were soaked, dripping, spilling. She could almost feel the pulse in his neck and the tautness of his jaw as he ground his teeth together.

Did his ears seem longer than normal?

She swallowed hard as her eyes moved up his face. Something in her was conflicted, still expecting the man she had grown so close to in the last few days, allowing him to reach her sandy shores as she opened herself up to him and all that he was; but a part of her didn't know what to expect. Although she had borne herself to him completely, there was still such an air of doubt that clouded around him, and the awful energy that emanated from his body was overwhelming. She looked into the eyes she had known her entire life, and shattered to find that they were no longer there. They were no longer the quiet emerald glint she was so accustomed to. No; they were something of horror stories, burning with a rage so intense it charred her bones.

"Mephisto..?" She cracked, the name bruising her lips on its way out. Although they had agreed she would continue to use the name, something in her sinking belly couldn't help but to feel as though it didn't suit the man before her in that moment.

His eyes flickered, lips parting – but instead of forming words, a low snarl escaped them as they twisted and curled, exposing his sharp fangs.

Before she could react, before she could reach out to the body, before she could see if the being she cared for was still there, a cloud of smoke surrounded them, filling her. She coughed wildly as it dispersed; Mephisto seemed unaffected, and never broke his glowering stare. She could see the rainbow of colors, the posters and pink around them as the grey faded. The fingers tightened around her arms once again, and she gasped as he flipped her around, slamming her back into him where he wrapped around her like a boa, constricting her movements while a hand snaked up her neck, grasping onto each side of her face. He squeezed her tightly as he moved in close to her ear, his sharp nails jabbing into her cheeks through the gloves.

"Tell me - what is _this_?" He queried through gritted fangs, his rickety breath grazing her skin as he forced her to face the sight in question. Her heart thumped as she looked over the broken glass scattered about the room. The heavy curtains flapped lethargically as the night breeze rolled in through the permanently opened door. Words began flooding her mind, looking for the right things to say to explain herself, or even just to state the obvious; but before she could muster up a sentence, the demon that held her continued on, sharper and colder. "Do you see what you have done?"

The girl wrapped her fingers around the stony wrist by her face. "I'm sorry…I—"

"You're what?" He jabbed, tilting his pointed ear towards her. "Did I hear that right? You say you're _sorry_?"

His grip intensified, parting her jaws, cocking her head, and the arm below her breast felt like a concrete cast keeping her breath short and shallow. "Y-yesth," she managed to sputter out.

There was a pause. He turned his face back to her, running up her neck, where he waited at her ear, his lips brushing against her. "I think it's a little late for such things. Don't you think, girl?"

His words hit her like a wrecking ball; never had he referred to her so callously. She felt a petal of her bud fall to the floor as his spite rose in her, pooling in her vision. She swallowed hard, concentrating. "I had to do something."

The grip on her face released, and she was then spun back around to face him in all the contempt that he held, flashing in his eyes. "What you _had_ to do was sit here, with your hag of a mother and my useless brother—anything but leave like I had _ordered._ "

 _Tch._

She went to take a step back, but his grip on her arm tightened. Really, it had been more of a suggestion—if anything, he had just asked. _It wasn't technically an order,_ she grumbled to herself, scowling up at the demon who glowered down at her with more ferocity than she could ever muster. His eyes sparked wildly at her rebellious expression, and she pursed her lips. _Better not,_ she thought quickly, and her mind quickly replayed the blurry scenes from just moments before, searching. "What did you do with Fenrir?"

"I locked him away in Gehenna," his mouth braced harshly with a snarl, his energy spiking as he watched the protest build in his human. Grabbing onto her wrist, he dragged her towards the bedroom door in a whirl. She tried to pull back, leaning the entirety of her body in the opposite direction, but it was useless against his strength. "If that upsets you, do you know what I should have done with him instead?"

Her watery eyes shook with her head.

He watched her over his shoulder, in an unmistakable dark expression. "I _should_ have his bloody head mounted on my _wall_ ," he growled as he yanked, pulling her to the hall, where they could see the living room from the foyer balcony. He pulled her against him, pointing to the fireplace. "I should have him mounted right there!"

The girl's eyes darted from the hearth, to the demon that held her tight within his grasp, digging into her with his claws. The cruelty began pouring down, like raindrops on a cold fall day, wetting the round cheeks of her face as she let out a wail. And she pulled back, fighting with all her might, thrashing and punching and kicking and screaming. "You wouldn't!" Each blow felt like her bones would break, and he stood like a statue, taking it in as if she were a fly. As she began to tire and slow, he jerked back on her arm swiftly, and the sound of her shoulder popping echoed through the mansion. She immediately stopped, as if someone had just slapped her across the face, and she rushed towards the demon in white and crashed back into his body.

"If the little bastard leads you into a dangerous situation again, I will kill him," he promised, tugging her along as he flew down the stairs, not caring whether she was able to keep up with him or not. She fumbled along behind him, still star struck, trying to regain her footing—her toe caught the edge of a step and she lurched forward, only to be held up above the ground by the demon out of nothing that would ever be considered kindness. Had she have fallen to the ground, limp as a cadaver, she would have been much easier to deal with. As they neared the bottom of the flight, he turned down the hallway. "But because I care for you _so_ much, I won't do that just yet," he spat, yet she was unable to see just how his face coiled.

If that had been his way of trying to console her, it didn't work. He was coarse and jagged and brutal in not only his actions and his handling of her body, but of her soul. The soul she had offered to him after so much deliberation. After so many of his promises, holding her in his arms, saying how he would never do anything to upset her, to hurt her in any way. His words pierced through her more than his own claws had, and the blood on her body was nothing compared to how she bled, unknowingly, running her rivers red. All her yelps didn't seem to faze him in the slightest. He didn't slow his stride, he didn't lower his voice, and he didn't loosen his grip as he raged down the halls, where picture frames rocketed off the walls, crashing to the floor as fires were set to the curtains that shielded cracked glass, exposing their vulnerability. If anything, her pain and suffering fueled his fire even more as the demon within him grew hungry.

His words were a viper masquerading in a wig with a curl, feeding her lies in the form of tenderness, telling her to eat the apple because he cared. Her mouth watered, longing to believe that a bite would fill her, but she realized the gleam on the red skin; fake, and flawed, black underneath. His attempt at comforting was a threat, and had she have been naïve enough to chew and swallow it, believing it to be true, she would have fallen for the trick of this Demon King. He hid his cruelty in his stark compassion, tucking her neatly to bed as she tired, whispering the true make up of that apple; if something like this were to happen again, his actions would be her own fault. She would deserve it.

The door to a room she was unfamiliar with flew open as he made his way down the hall, through the flames and the broken porcelain and art, his blaring human bobbing at his heels, unable to stay up from the pace he kept. The room was dark and lifeless, like an abandoned door to Gehenna as it echoed and groaned.

"Why—"

The white hat flew from his head as he ferociously turned back to face the human. "Clearly, I cannot trust you won't try escaping!"

Her gut churned, her heart pounded. "I-I won't! I promise!" She begged and pleaded, thrashing her waves wildly against him, but to no avail. Once they were close enough, the demon flung her inside as if she were but a doll, and she skidded across the cold, smooth floor like a stone skipping on water. Her skin burned everywhere the floor touched, rubbing her raw, but in the dim light she was unable to see herself. The room had a feeling that crawled under her flesh as if it had been empty for centuries, besides the normal upkeep. It lacked the smell of the living, and instead had the aroma of old paint, dust, and linens; the scent of desertion. Her arm pounded red hot to the touch as she enfolded her hand around it. "What is this?"

Mephisto stood in the doorway, looming over her hunched figure, a mere silhouette. "One of the spare bedrooms." His voice was low and hard.

Blinking through the pain, she tried looking around, to adjust to the darkness he had tossed her in, but there was nothing. No window to send the moon in, to fight off the black with its meek silver light. The only thing she could make out was the light of the fire, behind the man she began to see, for the first time, as a devil. "And why am I here?" She choked.

"You'll _stay_ here until I feel you can come out."

She couldn't reply. She just sat, clutching her arm as it throbbed, spreading across her body, everywhere that didn't receive a rash, or a scrape, or cut, or bruise. Her whole body hurt. Her whole body burned. And she swallowed, trying to keep her dam from bursting at the seams. "Must you be so cruel?" She managed to whisper.

And like a meteor, crashing down to earth, the demon ignited, sending a fist through the wall before rushing towards her. "What's cruel is what you have forced me to do!" He roared through a mouthful of sharp teeth. Her heart beat with enough force to knock a grown man off of his feet; but the flames flickered across the walls, sending demons out to play, finally showing her the black room. And the girl looked into the eyes of the demon, taking him in for who he was, red and boiling, wondering how this could have been the same creature who had treated her so tenderly before.

Gradually, her eyes fell down toward the ground, only to be stopped by something ghastly – her sweltering skin was beginning to raise in bumps and boils, like a pot of water simmering above the flame. She gasped at the sight, raising her arm out. "W-what is this?!"

"It's from the Impure King - do you not realize you could have _died?_ " The demon strained, flames bursting as he growled.

"How do w-we get rid of it?!"

The demon snapped his jaws. "I could have chosen to fix it, but seeing as how you disobeyed me when I said you could not partake of this mission—"

She scowled, quickly speaking before thinking. "You said it was because I didn't have my temptaint. And now I do." Immediately, she regretted opening her mouth; but it was difficult to contain the ocean in a storm.

Bursting once more with a roar, he surged into the room after her. Adrenaline coursed through her veins, and she tumbled backwards to keep the distance between their bodies. But she was not as agile as he, nor as quick; he wasn't weak or in pain, and he easily snatched her boot before she could rise to her feet. The human let out a terrified yelp as she slid backwards on her belly, and a hand with long claws tearing through the lavender grasped onto the back of her sweater, pulling her up. She kicked and flailed, threatening to bite down on the fiery claws that seized her collar, toasting the fabric brown and black. She only stopped when he brought her to his face, dark and ominous, completely vacant of the man she knew. "Don't make me regret giving you that, girl."

The temperature rose, causing her to break a sweat. But never had she felt so hollow. _How could he be so cold?_

Water began pouring from her bloodshot eyes, cascading down her as she wailed and fought, which only confused and angered the demon. He _s_ canned over her blubbering face, wet and shiny from every orifice. Growling, he quaked, shaking her as his claws tore at the fabric in his grasp. Her hands came up, passing through his flame. "Stop it!" She cried, her eyes quivering. "You're scaring me!"

"You should be scared of me!" He boasted, igniting the room. "You should have listened to those old books of yours; I'm a _demon_ ," he sneered with a mouth full of daggers.

He watched the emotion leave her face in that instant, as the sores grew and new ones formed. Gently, her hands wrapped around his own. "Don't you care at all, Samael?"

He froze, the flourish of fire in the room resting. _What sort of game..?_ He took a step back, dropping her to the ground as his fire wavered low. "If I didn't care, I would have let you die in that river," he finally said, his voice subdued. The girl looked off to the side, furrowing her brow. "Still, you disobeyed me; you'll stay here for the remainder of the night—that's an order," he said in an uncomplicated tone, finally without anger or disdain as he moved back towards the doorway.

Without even looking at him, she raised her arm up, showing him the swellings once more, just in case he had forgotten. "And what about these?"

There was a pause, the fury and flames only sparking up into the night as they clung for life. "Perhaps you should have thought about that before you ran off," he spoke distantly. But almost instantaneously, a small brown bag popped up next to him in a light puff of smoke, sparks of charred glitters falling to the ground. The demon tossed it to her before moving for the handle. "Sit here and think about what you did."

The door clicked as it locked, leaving the girl in the darkness once more. Her body trembled out of her control as the heat dissipated, leaving only the soreness of her whole figure. The paper bag rattled as she searched it; and she found a single, small vial of medication, a needle, and a syringe. She stared the items down.

Outside of the room, Mephisto drew in a deep breath before pushing his tingling frame off of the door. He trudged his way down the hall, pinching between his eyes with his thumb and forefinger, his mind wracking over the events that had taken place, replaying the things he had said. How could he have just lost it? On _his human_ , no less? He had done so much to build trust between the two of them over the months, spent so much time wading in her waters, to calm her storm and let him reach her; and it was possible, he thought, that he may have just destroyed everything.

A heavy dark, blue-grey weighed down on him, causing his stomach to twist and turn in knots. The image of the girl flashed in his mind, tears streaming down her face, the terror in her eyes as she looked him over – suddenly the hall swerved, and he slapped a torn purple glove onto the wall to steady himself as he buckled over, feeling as though he could lose the contents of his stomach. _Why do I feel like this,_ he wondered, his gut turning once more. Surely it had nothing to do with the release of some of his demonic powers; he knew what that felt like, and it wasn't this. He knew what his host body felt like when it was sick, and it wasn't this. This was something new. Something foreign. Something he had no explanation for.

It wasn't long before Belial came to his master, questioning him if everything was alright. The demon king waved him away, wishing to be left alone, only to be interrupted by the shrill voice of the human mother piercing through the halls, wondering what had happened, since she had undoubtedly heard all of the commotion. Mephisto let his heavy lids rest loosely together as he stood, drawing in another breath. "Everything is fine, madam; please go back to bed," he answered in a dull, stern tone. With an unenthusiastic snap of his fingers, a sparkling light grey puff left him in fresh clothing. As he cracked his green eyes open, he turned back to his butler. "Can you please have her out of here by the time I return tomorrow?" he begged quietly, wishing nothing more than for it to come soon so he may try to undo the damage he had caused. "I'll see to it that she doesn't remember what happened here tonight."

Part of him didn't want to remember what had happened. But he couldn't get her face out of his mind; the look of fear in her eyes, and how it melted away to emptiness.

 _Samael._

If she was the river, if she was the sea, bold and wild and deep; then he was a forest fire, burning bright and strong as he devoured everything in his path, only ever calming to a smolder that waited patiently to be ignited once again – so then how could she turn his flames to water?


	41. Chapter 41, Brother May I

41, Brother May I.

After a haughty reprimand from his elder brother, Amaimon was released once more to keep an eye over the human girl. However this time, he was specifically directed to intervene if anything seemed to be wrong with the girl, instead of sitting back and watching like the little green demon had done prior. Even though Mephisto could have destroyed the Impure King with ease, he resumed watching the battle of Kyoto unfurl, to ease his mind and cool down from the events that had taken place. Amaimon returned to the mansion, where the help were scurrying about, picking up the broken glass and porcelain, ripping down burnt draperies, sweeping the charred remains, dusting and polishing everything. They would work well into the night to give the manor the appearance as if it had never been mutilated, eventually replacing the cracked windows and glass door.

The mansion was tight and dark and eerily quiet; the earth king might not have been there for when his brother brought the girl back, but he could tell what might have happened. He could sense it in the air, the remainder of the power, weighing down upon everything. His own, cold heart sank as he moved down the hallways toward the room, unsure of what he might find there. Part of him was surprised the human was still alive. He had enough confidence in what he saw as her inner strength to believe she would have been fine against the Impure King; he had no idea that she was nearly moments away from death before Mephisto had found her. He was more surprised that his brother, after learning she had refused to comply with commands, didn't kill her – on purpose, or accident. It had been quite some time Amaimon had seen his elder brother so worked up, and the whole thing was perplexing.

Had his brothers' game evolved into something else?

He could feel her, wobbly and weak, through the walls. All he needed to do was wait outside until Mephisto returned; Fenrir was still locked away in Gehenna, and the only way out was through the door. There was little she could do. He plopped down on the ground, bouncing his knee on the stony floor, twiddling with the loose strands of his frayed coat to keep him from dying of boredom. But the atmosphere was troubling the demon, and each moment that passed, he grew more and more anxious, pounding his leg to the ground nearly hard enough to break the marble. _Maybe just a quick peek,_ he finally thought. After all, he only knew she was alive, not the condition she was in. _She could be on the verge of death,_ he reasoned; _brother would be upset if she died on my watch._

Mephisto might actually kill him if that happened.

There was an old, large vent high up on the wall that lead into the bedroom. In old homes such as these, they were used for airflow in rooms that weren't located on an exterior wall, where there was no window, and they served as a way to alert people of a fire, let smoke out of the room, and serve as a potential fire escape – although the ceilings were so high in the mansion that reaching the vent wasn't very feasible, making it a flawed design that was abandoned in the modern era. Knowing that he wouldn't be allowed to open the door, Amaimon decided that the vent was his ticket. He would go up there, just check on the girl, and that was it. Nothing more.

At least, that's what he had told himself.

As he neared the vent, he heard faint sounds from the room, but there was very little movement. He was able to slip through without making a noise, but it was so dark he couldn't see his own hands. Though, he could feel her, somewhere in the bedchamber, weak, like the trickle of the stream in the dead of winter. The closer he came to the ground, the better he could hear; crying? It was faint. Quiet. Like she had been completely expended, only holding on to a deep, shaky breath and a snuffle here and there. For some reason, this resonated with him, and instead of going for the light switch, he went for her, getting closer and closer until he was nearly upon her – and that's when he could smell it.

Blood.

It entered his nose and constricted his whole being. He stopped for a moment, midair, trying to determine if his mind was playing tricks on him. Like maybe he was imagining the worst. Images of her broken, bleeding body popped into his mind, fueling something in him, sending him for the wall erratically searching for the light switch. And once it was on, the old bulb straining to warm up, his eyes searched the room for her; and he nearly fell at what he saw.

Her head hung about her shoulders, and her body was slumped to her knees on the white stone, bathed in the blood of a large sigil she had drafted upon the floor. The dark red that had flowed from the cracks of her fingers as they pressed firmly onto her arm had started to dry and crack with time.

Amaimon went to her slowly, his eyes wide, and he tucked her hair behind her ears, revealing the face that was smudged and smeared with soot, blood, and tears. "What were you thinking?" He asked, gently taking her bruised wrist in his hand, bringing her forearm up so he may have a look, but her fingers never left the wound she had made.

"I can't summon him." Her voice was hoarse.

The demon sighed. "It doesn't work like that. He's in a part of Gehenna that you can't reach." There was no reply. He released her and peeled his burgundy coat from his arms, tearing strips from the hem of the tails. Doctoring injuries wasn't something he did. He caused wounds, gashes, broken bones. In the flesh of demons and humans alike, he created them, and admired them, like the art of a master. But on her, he had never seen anything more unnerving. "Let me fix it," he said plainly, offering out his palm; but she didn't move. After a moment, he took her arm once more while trying to be as gentle as possible, but she jumped, and he wasn't sure if he had hurt her or not. When she relaxed into compliance, her eyes fixated on the demon, he began lugging each finger from her skin, one by one, until her bloodied hand was free of the cut and red began to ooze once again. He quickly began wrapping it, keeping it tight, as he looked over her, covered in swellings.

"Do you need anything else?" he asked as he finished, tying the last of the knots. The blood had been seeping through the fabric, but stopped as it began to dot the outer layer.

She was quiet, inspecting the bandage. "Will you open the door for me?" she finally asked, quietly, half sincere, as if she knew the answer already.

"No."

Even if he wanted too, he couldn't.

She let out a breath, wiping her cheek on her sleeve as she leaned over, grabbing a tiny, empty red container with a paper label stuck to it. "Can you go and get me more of this medicine from the supply shop?" she asked, holding it up for the demon to see without making eye contact. He looked it over, nodding firmly before disappearing. It didn't take him long before he returned with a handful of the vials. She took them without word, continuing where she had left off when the antidote had run out. Without word, Amaimon proceeded to mop up the blood sigil with his coat and the scraps that were her singed, tattered sweater, and then sat down across from her, watching the human self-administer in silence.

It didn't seem to bother the girl, as she loaded the syringe, pointing the needle up as she tapped on it, watching the air bubbles move to the top before she drew down on the plunger, pushing it and a couple drops of liquid from the tip. It didn't seem to bother her as she inserted the needle past her flesh, into the fluid pocket, releasing the remedy, which caused the boils to ooze from pressure. She never made a noise, she never flinched, and she never winced. The demon's eyes grazed over the exposed skin, as she rolled her sleeves up, hiked up her skirt, and pulled her blouse up, trying to reach every area that needed attention. He couldn't take his eyes off of her; he had never seen so much of a human, and he couldn't help but to think he might actually like it. But the more he saw of her, the more he was surprised she came without burn marks. Cuts, scrapes and bruises were in abundance, but there were no burns.

A noise distracted him from where he had sat, intently watching the fabric of her clothing moving across her, studying her; glancing up to her face, he noticed her eyes, glistening like the waves on a sunny summer day, her face taunt as she pursed her lips. A drop of water fell to her lap.

"Does it hurt?" he muttered.

Her watery orbs flashed in his direction for a split second, before going back to their duty of watching the needle. "Well it doesn't feel good; have you never gotten a shot before?"

"No," Amaimon started, scooting across the floor, and moving up to his knees, where he reached a hand out towards her. The sudden intrusiveness of his approach caught her off guard, and she flinched backwards. He stopped, waiting until he could press forward again, and placed his finger nail on her chest. "In here. Does it hurt?" He knew humans felt things called emotions, but he never could comprehend what that meant. It wasn't until he had met her that he had felt _something_ inside of his vessel, leading him to be slightly more empathetic to the feelings of humans; especially this one in particular.

She paused, her eyes enlarging as she looked into his plain expression. Wiping a tear from her eye before it fell, she let out a sigh, glancing away as he moved his hand back onto the ground. "I guess, yeah, it does," she whispered, her voice cracking with sentiment. "I just don't understand."

"Understand what?" he asked, cocking his head to the side.

"Your brother?"

There was an inflection in her voice he couldn't place. Should he have known what she was talking about? Reading humans was so difficult; how did Mephisto do it so easy? The young demon casually dusted his pant leg off, taking his time to answer. At last, he spoke, although un-enthusiastically. "He just wants you safe." They both did.

She was still, staring at the syringe she held loosely. "Not really a way to go about it," she said quietly. There was another pause as she sat, lost in thought, before glancing up to the green-haired boy. Shifting to her knees and turning her body so that she faced the same way that he did, she began toying with the buttons on her uniform; something perplexing to the demon. "Can you get my back?" she finally asked, pulling her shirt open. A strange thought he had never had before popped into his mind, an almost wishing that she had been facing him. Her hands then grabbed each end of the white top, and she pulled it up and over her head, where it rested across her bust.

Amaimon grew warm at the sight before him, and as the fabric pulled up, exposing the form of her body, he found it was laced with marks. Days old scabs traced her skin, from claws and teeth, and his mind envisioned the actions that put them there. Something below twitched, and he couldn't help but to wish he were the one to give her the marks for some reason he didn't understand. Moving closer to her, he picked up the syringe – an object he would have found curious under normal circumstances, but he was too fixated on the amount of flesh exposed before his very eyes, and his heart thumped faster the closer his hand got to it, ready to feel her warmth once again.

He moved her long, soft hair off of her back and over her shoulder, uncovering the oldest wound; a bite mark, low on her neck, in the flesh of her shoulder. Slowly, he placed his fingertips on her, running them over the bite, and down her back, taking in how she felt before he reached one of the swellings. And all of a sudden, his whole body grew hot. He halted, immobilized by the feeling, the beating in his chest, the flutter in his stomach, the tug in his drawers. The girl glanced back at him over her shoulder, and he gulped, resuming to the swelling where he inserted the needle as she had before. He was quiet for some time, thoughts racing through his mind. But he couldn't help it any longer. "So…" he started, trying to get past the knot in his throat. "The two of you… My brother, and you… You two have become…" he choked. "Intimate?"

The girl's temperature rose beneath his hand just slightly. "Has he said anything to you?"

"No, he doesn't have too." He paused his speech, thinking about how odd it sounded coming out. "We're demons. We can just kind of…tell."

"How?"

"I guess it's like…I can smell him on you. Letting me and other demons know." His face was as red as a kettle as he spoke, steaming; he couldn't believe he had even brought the matter up.

She was less quick to respond. "What do you mean?"

He treated the last boil before looking her over, already noticing a change in their appearance. After giving himself enough time to think, he handed the syringe back to the girl, and she flipped her shirt back over herself and began buttoning herself up. "Well, he wounded you in some way, right?" She waited before giving a quick, barely noticeable nod. "That's why you're able to see demons now, even the ones who don't want to be seen. It also lets lesser demons know you're his." There was an ache in his chest as he said those words.

She didn't have a response. She was just quiet as she turned around, almost facing him completely. He could see her eyes working, thinking, as they stared down at the marble floor. Her lips parted. "Amaimon, why did you want to kiss me?"

Unprepared, he froze. Why exactly did she want to know? It couldn't have been important that she knew _his_ reasons. "I-I don't know," he stammered, melting in his own skin. "It's something I had heard of humans doing, so I thought it would be fun."

She moved in quietly, looking him dead in the eyes, searching for her answers. "Okay, yeah. But _why_ did you want to kiss _me_?"

He shrugged nervously, deciding to level with her. "I guess, there was just something about you. Something different. Brother always talked about you, and I got curious. And when I saw you, you were pretty—I wasn't expecting it. I had to meet you, and then," He paused, making eye contact for a second. Her expression never changed. Blushing, he looked away. "I just wanted too." It just _felt_ right. He kept his pupils away from the ones that dug into the side of his face. "I guess I'm no different than my brother, but it doesn't matter now."

"Why?"

Not expecting that sort of response, he looked back at her. "B-because. He's claimed you as his."

She scowled, looking away. "I don't belong to anyone. That's for sure."

Eyeing her over, he studied the expression on her face, trying to understand what everything meant. What was she feeling, what was going through her mind, why she asked such a question, why he had even said anything—too much was going through his head, and he couldn't make sense of it at all. But he knew she was pretty, and he knew, even if no one else on the planet could see it, that she was strong. That she had been battling for the entirety of her human life, just on the inside, where no eyes could see. That she kept it hidden below her pragmatic façade, and diverted attention with a warm smile. He liked that smile. But it made him sad; because he realized that the sweetest smiles had the murkiest depths. He didn't quite know what it all meant, but he knew that. And he admired the combatant within her, and the way she could make him feel something—anything. His eyes fell upon her face, and they were longing and hopeful, clinging desperately to the explanations that he created in his own mind. "Do you think, this time, maybe," his voice faltered, his insides flipping and dancing. "I could kiss you?"

The girl's wide eyes snapped back toward the demon boy, and she let out a short, surprised huff. "Amaimon—kissing is usually saved for when you like someone."

"I do like you." He didn't know what it meant either, but it felt like it was the truth.

Her cheeks turned pink. "I'm sorry, what I meant to say was people kiss when—oh I don't know—when they _both_ like each other, in the same way."

He stopped, closing his mouth as he looked down at his fingers. "Like you and brother."

Her face softened, and she spoke quietly. "Sort of like that."

That made sense to him. Despite how he _felt_ about her, his elder brother had the upper hand, playing his game and winning the human over just as he had planned. Despite how he felt towards her, she didn't feel the same towards him; instead, she must have felt that for his brother. Stomach knotting, the curiosity he had held for Assiah dissipated with each moment of silence that passed. And without another word, he rose to his feet; but before he could leave something tugged at the bottom of his shorts—and she was there, sitting, her eyes glistening again, with her hand lightly clutching at him.

Her voice was small and meek, barely above a whisper as it struggled to break free."I don't want to be alone right now," she stammered. "That's why I was trying to summon Fenrir."

The demon boy let out his breath, all the negative he had built up melting away and leaving him with the air from his lungs. And he sat back down, leaning up against the wall, where he assumed she would go to the bed and sleep alone while he waited and watched; but instead, she crawled to him, resting her head in his lap. And he ran his nails through her hair as her internal war ravaged, coming out through her eyes in weeps, until exhaustion lulled her to sleep.


	42. Chapter 42, Bishop Pair

Chapter 42, Bishop Pair.

 _Warning: Suggestive Situations_

Dark burgundy socks moved noiselessly across the polished stone beneath them. They took their time, the little printed hearts taking in the view, so neat and tidy. Everything was in its place as if nothing had happened, and the afternoon sun poked through fresh, untainted glass, so clean it looked as if it weren't even there. They quietly thanked the butler before continuing on to their destination. Long black nails wrapped around each other behind the white coat, tapping ever so lightly with each stride. A casual little hum escaped, rubbing up against the pristine wallpaper with no scorch marks in sight.

Everything was perfect. A visitor wouldn't have the slightest idea of the horrors that had taken place in the manor just the night before. Even the stench of fire had somehow been completely eradicated. Each hole had been patched and sanded and painted and covered, everything had been scrubbed, and what couldn't be was replaced. Anyone, even those who frequented the mansion, wouldn't have any idea how often, or sporadic, the elusive director lost control of himself. But that's just the way he wanted it to be. And that's just the way he had kept it, for hundreds of years.

However there was one thing that wasn't perfect. One little thing that wasn't too his liking – the state of which he knew his human would be in. He had deliberated on it periodically through the night as he watched the exorcists fight such an entertaining battle, getting distracted when his youngest brother defeated the beast with his blue flames, only to come back to his train of thoughts while he waited in droll meetings throughout the morning. By this time, as he glided down the hall to her, he had schemed precisely what he would say, and how he might go about the situation that was to come. He had planned for every contingency he could fathom, everything she might retort with, with that cute little wrinkled nose of hers as she strained to hiss and rattle to keep him at bay.

He chuckled to himself at the thought.

It was quiet on the other side as he unlocked the door and slowly opened it. To his surprise, the bed was still neatly made without a body in sight. His pupils scanned the room where the light of the hallway fell, searching. Off to the left, he stopped on some dark smudges on the stone floors, and he moved in to inspect further, letting the door shut behind him. It wasn't difficult for the demon to recognize blood, even if it had been wiped up. He could still smell it, stale as it lingered in the air. His calm demeanor began losing its footing as a single, haughty thump burst in his chest, and he snapped his fingers, which lit the moody lamps in the room. He didn't remember injuring her too badly; he thought he had kept decent control – so where did all this blood come from? The scent drew him to the torn sweater that was balled and tossed aside like nothing of importance. And from the corner of his heavy lids, he saw her.

She looked peaceful enough as she rested, curled up near the wall; some of the extra linens from the dresser were folded neatly under her head, and another sprawled out over her as a makeshift blanket. She was noiseless as the cover rose and fell, calm and slow like afternoon tides.

He let out a sigh, the tension in his body quickly dissolving, and a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Why not the bed, you silly human," he whispered so softly to himself as he moved to her. Since she was always up in a timely manner, he had expected her to be awake already, waiting impatiently with her scowl to be released, and so he had entered the room ready to hash things out; but seeing her sleeping so peacefully warmed his icy heart. Enfolding her within his arms, he carefully scooped her up, blanket and all, and relocated towards the bed. She let out a soft noise, a charming sleep-sigh as she nuzzled into his chest, causing the demon to freeze mid-step. And he looked her over, dumbfounded as his face grew warm, swaying internally; she was something of a storybook, he was certain. Something like the serene little cherubs of folklore.

The memory of her frightened face rushed well before his eyes once more, and the same grey feeling washed over him sparsely. _How could I have treated her in such a way?_ He questioned himself, his green eyes flickering around the room before dropping his forehead to hers. _What had come over me?_

But like any other new emotion that had come over his being, he noticed the change, scarcely acknowledged it, questioned it, went so far as to ponder on it, but only ever momentarily – for then he proceeded to quickly bury it in the depths of his mind until the feelings surfaced once more, begging to be dealt with at a later time. Perhaps he didn't want to know why he was feeling them. Perhaps it was because he didn't like the answers.

Laying her down onto the mattress, he tried ever so carefully to crawl into bed next to her, to hold her close some more while she slept. Every time he laid his eyes on her, his wants and needs fluctuated, changed, and intertwined. He had went to the door wanting to discuss everything right away, to tell her all the things he had planned out to get her to move past what he had done, so they could brush it off like nothing happened and he could put it behind himself. But those callous, selfish wants softened with her sigh, leaving only a confusing mix of new, repressed needs each time he looked upon her. To be close to her, to hold her. To rest in the crook of her neck, to fill his lungs with her scent as she supplied him with her calming vitality. To be forgiven, oh god to be forgiven; his bones craved it.

But it was in doing so, as he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her into him, that she stirred.

The demon watched, subduing his breath as a bandaged arm rose from the grave, rubbing the face of the angel. Her muscles tensed as she stretched before relaxing back down into him, letting out a leisurely yawn, and slowly her eyes fluttered open and then closed, grazing over the figure before her. He had thought perhaps she wasn't fully awake, but was quickly proven wrong when her eyes snapped opened, staring him down.

She blinked a couple times, as if trying to discern if she were dreaming or not.

He smiled warmly at her.

She did not.

Instead, she grew increasingly hot to the touch as her body stiffened, and it wasn't long before she began to inch backwards with her eyes locked with his, slipping from his fingers.

It was now or never. "Goodmorning, my sweet flower," the demon whispered musically, her pupils falling upon his canines as he spoke. "How are you feeling?" She didn't say anything. "It seems you fell asleep on the ground, are you sore?" Still no reply. "Are you hungry? I could retrieve something—anything you wanted." Nothing. He let out a soft sigh, his forehead wrinkling.

The girl studied the creature before her carefully with hard, focused eyes as her mind came forth from the fog of sleep. There was still something that made it feel unreal; and perhaps, she reasoned, it was he himself. Something was different, and she couldn't place it. Her bloodshot eyes pleaded to be closed, to fall back into the sheets and sleep the day away, but she could barely blink, fearing to take her eyes from the demon for too long. He seemed normal enough – he looked like his usual self, he was acting like nothing bad had ever happened. But the back of her mind reasoned it could have been any moment, and he would show his true colors once more. She wouldn't fall for his illusions any longer. Slowly, she pulled back once again, freeing herself from even the most remote touch of the man.

"It's alright—" his voice came, always so smooth and artful. "It's me." There was a sort of half-smile on his face, which neither matched the dulling of his eyes or the thin air that surrounded him. It seemed forced, the slight hurt showing through his façade.

Her pupils snapped back up to his for a second before looking his face over, attempting to deduce how to approach the situation. She always forgot that he was indeed a demon. She had spent far too long making excuses in her head about his ears and why he always wore his gloves, or why he was so rather elusive. Her eyes flickered down to the hand, spread loosely on the comforter between the two bodies. No gloves. And despite his nails being a bit long, it appeared human. Bit by bit, her eyes moved back up, studying the creases of his white double breasted coat, the emblem pinned on his chest, the polka dot cravat hugging his human neck, the dark of his goatee and the ever so slight shadow of hair growing along his jawline. She glanced up, noting the dry, pink hue of his nose, the dark circles below his eyes, and how his hair looked somewhat dingy for him. Overall, he looked human. He looked like Johann Faust, the man who had captured her heart. But he also never looked disheveled, untidy; yet there he was, with wrinkles and bags and stubble, as if he had one of the longest most taxing nights of his life.

 _Maybe,_ she began to think, _he really didn't mean it._

It was then that the humanesque hand made a move toward her, perhaps to brush her cheek, or maybe even to grab and pull her back in—but instinctively, she jolted backwards and threw her palm up, where she paused before pushing the hand back down. And almost instantly, his sticky sweet disguise began to give way. "My dear, you have to say something at some point," he sighed with a grimace. "We need to discuss what took place yesterday."

Her heart seemed to sink in that moment. It sounded like an inevitable business meeting looming over them. She choked on the lump in her throat for a moment before she could speak. He was not Johann Faust. He was not Mephisto Pheles. "Discuss? You mean, you want to know if I learned my lesson," she finally retorted as coldly as she could muster, propping herself up on the bed and looking down at him. He was Samael, the demon king.

It wasn't much, but finally she was talking. "Well, yes," he started, voice faltering for just a moment. "But I have learned mine as well." He watched as her expression turned to confusion. "I know I did terrible things. And I swear to you, it shall never happen again. I never wanted to hurt you." His hollow eyes dropped down to the bandages on her arm.

The girl followed his gaze, landing on the wound. _Did he think he did that?_ She wondered. _Maybe he doesn't remember what all he did last night._ She toyed around with letting the demon continue thinking he had wounded her so badly, but she broke. "This?" she said, bringing her arm up. "You didn't do this." Despite what he did the previous night, she couldn't let him believe he had done something he didn't.

"No?" the demon questioned, raising a brow at the dark red fabric.

"I did it."

His hard eyes snapped to hers. "What—why?"

"I was frightened, on my own, locked away in the dark. I tried summoning Fenrir." Her voice was emotionless, dull, as she spoke in a matter-of-fact way. The type of thing someone would do to downplay a rather upsetting turn of events, systematically getting more of a rise from the listener. Which seemed to do the trick. A sort of fire seemed to start in him, different than those of the night before—something multifaceted, vexed and troubled; and she recognized the grey guilt clear on his face as he sat up. Brow furrowed, his mouth opened as if to try to say something, but no words could make up for the things he had done, and caused. She watched his internal struggle plainly. "I'm sure I lost quite a bit of blood," she pushed. "But don't worry, your brother came and bandaged me. At least _he_ was here for me."

His eyes met hers, looking back and forth, the moment of discomposure solidifying back toward his usual, poised, controlled self. "Good," he cracked, soft and slow, as if he wasn't sure he meant his own words. "I never intended too—"

"But you did." She cut him off, her stony expression yet to waver. She pulled up her opposing sleeve, revealing the hand-sized bruise from where he had dragged her down the hall. "Maybe you didn't mean to do any of this, to hurt me in any way—" He tried to speak, but she kept going. "But you did. You did a lot more than you even realize." Her eyes began to water as she spoke, getting caught up reviewing all the wounds, and she choked on them to keep them hidden, to keep strong in front of the demon that walked like he was a god.

He watched her for a while in silence, taking her in; she furrowed her brow at him, in that way that wrinkled her nose before turning her head away, which he found utterly adorable and he had to subdue a lighthearted chuckle. Every time she denied him, it only made him want her more, but he had to be so tactful when navigating her waters. "I know," finally came the demon's voice. "Believe me, I know. I've done unspeakable things. I've hurt you in unimaginable ways. And while I never meant too, I know nothing I say can rewrite what happened." He reached out for her, walking his fingers into hers, coaxing her to accept him. "You know, I couldn't get my mind off of you all night; I longed to return, to see if there was any way I could undue this." Their fingers entwined softly, her hand ready to escape as he slowly began making his way to her. "I'm not asking you to forgive me, not yet. That will come within time, I hope." His lids were heavy as he looked his human over, trying to gauge her reactions to his ever so subtle advances. She was hesitant, but wasn't outright denying him, so he continued getting closer, running his palm over her wrist as he brought it up to his lips, gently kissing her bruise all the way around. "It's not an excuse, but I was just so worried about you, thinking something could have happened to you—I don't know what I would do. I just wanted you safe. And I seem to have lost it," he spoke between each tender kiss, making his way up her forearm where he was encouraged by her light titter, and responded by pulling her over to his lap. She eyed him carefully as he did, but it was clear he was getting through to her, just as he always did. "Let me make it up to you," he murmured gently into her skin, the smell of sake getting stronger. "If there's anything you want, all you must do is say it, and it shall be done. I swear."

She didn't understand how he could do it—to get her from such a cold and unfeeling state, to longing for more of him. The parts of her psyche that wanted to push him away, and pull him in to her, battled on as she hesitated with each move he made. She just wished things could go back to the way they were, when they had no care in the world and couldn't get enough of one another. Before he had done anything questionable or broken trust. "Anything I want?" she asked quietly, the words a jumble as they fell from her lips. Her tone was something half-hopeful, half-unamused, as if she doubted his sincerity.

"Of course," he reiterated with a coy smile. It didn't seem any more sincere than before, like there was a catch. "I've never lied to you, have I?" The demon brought his hand up, barely grazing his thumb across her lips, and brushed against her cheek as he made his way up to her locks, which he tucked neatly behind her ear. Bristles made their way from her head to her toes as his fingers caressed her long tresses, releasing bits of tension with every inch they fell.

"Not that I know of," she muttered, barely audible for anyone to hear.

But he always heard.

Immediately, she felt his hand coil around her chin, hard and stony for just a split second, long enough to know his initial reaction to her words, but not so long as to allow her to react. For almost instantly, he relaxed into the sensitivity he so often tried to show this human, leaving only a questionable memory of frustration in the indents on her skin. She looked him dead in the eye, with a look that would shake a normal man, almost daring her demons to try to break her. But the moment was gone, fleeting, falling into tenderness that she never knew was an intentional choice or due to a weakness for her as he cupped her face within his hands.

"My dear, I could have erased your memory and pretended none of this even happened. After all, I do want things to go back to normal. But I came here for you, so we could move forward together," he smiled warmly as his thumb stroked her cheek. "As a couple."

Her eyes widened, for she was completely and utterly caught off guard. "A c-couple?" she stammered, searching through his layers for the mistake. Surely he couldn't have meant such a thing.

But his eyes seemed to glow under his low lids as he moved into her. "Well of course, my flower. Do you not think of us as such? After all that we've been through; all that we've done together?" he questioned, nipping at her ever so delicately, his breath spreading across her with every syllable, bringing her down with him.

He had that way with her, winding himself around her, keeping her on his side, submitting to him. And she ached for it, for him. Even with her face burning, unsure whether to push him away or to accept him, part of her begged him to keep on, like a ghost haunting. "We've just..never talked about it, I suppose," she finally responded as his lips grazed against her, standing on edge. To fend off a demon, or to succumb; neither was pretty, but both were chaotic and poetic all in the same. And she had to be honest to herself—the sound of being together, officially unofficially with any sort of title, whether or not it was to be kept secret, was enticing in itself. She was flooded once again with wanting things to be normal, as normal as they could be. After all, despite what had happened, she wanted him. Wanted his arms around her, pulling at her petals, his lips against hers, shushing her worries away. She always had a habit of thinking too much without saying a word, and he looked so good when he was reading her. He was always the only quiet she got, even when he made her scream.

"Do you not want that?" he asked, the breath of his pout titillating her senses as he grazed his mouth over her once again.

A couple. To knowingly date a demon; one of the demon kings at that. To accept him for everything that he was—she wondered if she could do it. What good could come from such a pairing, a weak-willed human and a self-seeking demon? It could be legendary, or it could be a disaster. He was greedy, taking her for what he wanted, but she allowed it. She was helpless, down on her knees for him, but she lived for it. She would offer up her neck for her king because he would beg for it, but queens could play chess too. And maybe the light she glimpsed at the end of the tunnel was just the sun in her eyes, but the flick of his silver tongue just before he kissed her skin so fondly guided her mind to places only he had ever managed to take her too, and the image of her demons from the night before faded away into her depths.

"Fine," she muddled, pulling herself from the sweet, fiery waters that he drank so eagerly, composing herself and looking him in the eye. She could try to refrain, but he was stuck in her as much as she was stuck in him. The demon propped himself up over top of his human, like he were proud of his kill, eyeing her up and down with his otherworldly confidence. "I'll consider forgiving you. But I have a few stipulations."

"Name them, and they're yours," he spoke smoothly, leaning down to her lips. But before he could continue stoking the fires he so often would ignite, her finger pushed onto his mouth as she rose.

"First," she said assertively, driving him back. "Don't you ever invite my mother here without consulting me. You know I don't like her. It was completely inappropriate for you to arrange her visit."

Slowly, his look of bewilderment softened to a sly, collected expression. "I was merely hoping the two of you could get some time together—"

"Never again."

He stared the girl down, emotionless. "As you wish, my dear."

"Second," she started, her pupils moving to the right. "You release Fenrir from wherever you have him kept."

"Done."

 _That was easy enough._ The girl looked him over as his expression has turned plain. "Third, I wish to continue training with Yukio, though I will still humor the Madame for you, for whatever reasons I don't understand."

The demon let out rather labored sigh, letting her know he wished to retort. "Okay."

"And last," she said, her voice faltering ever so slightly as she sat up straight on the bed. "I want you to let me go to the next mission the exwire's go on, no questions asked."

She watched carefully as his black nail tapped on the bedspread, his hard green eyes on her. Minutes seemed to pass as they sat in silence, his mind spinning through words, searching. He finally broke eye contact, glancing down while he shifted, his tongue raking across his teeth, settling within the pocket of his cheek. "Now that one, my dear, is one I have a hard time agreeing too," he said with a formidable air.

"You said anything," she reminded, holding strong against his push.

He rocked his head to one side and snapped it back quickly, acknowledging the truth of her words with an irritated tick as though he regretted it. Taking some time to think, he finally addressed his human with a sly smile. "I'll consider it, if you do something for me."

The girl raised a brow. Of course there would be some sort of catch, some sort of condition. But a compromise was better than nothing. "What's that?"

Suddenly, he came in close once more, looming over her with a Cheshire grin and burning eyes, pushing her back onto the bed. The demon drew in a breath, his lips meeting in a curled smirk as he looked her up and down. His voice was dark when he spoke. "You sell me your pretty little soul, of course."

The girl's stomach made one quick churn, and she glowered up at him. "You're not serious."

His lower lip puckered as he pulled it in under his fang. "Are you sure?" he asked, tracing her neck with his nail, making his way down to her collar bone. "After all, I am a demon. What more could I want with you?"

 _There's no way he's serious_ , she thought with a chuckle, tilting her head backwards. "What's your condition?"

He leaned in, wetting his fangs before stopping himself from biting down. "Don't make it sound so impersonal, little flower; _ask_ what you could do for me."

 _It's always a game,_ she thought, pursing her lips. "What can I do for you?" she repeated, straining her words unnaturally. The breath of his amused chuckle hit her skin in puffs before he came up, his hungry eyes looking down upon her as he undid his coat, and he tossed it to the side as a finger tugged at the polka dot cravat.

"That's better."

(Chapter 43, Checkmate, will only be published to my DeviantArt as it will be rated MA - sorry everyone!)


	43. Chapter 44, Playing House

Chapter 44, Playing House.

 _(Chapter 43 was only available on my DeviantArt account as you need to confirm your age to view it.)_

And just like that, things had seemed to go back to normal between the two beings.

The demon gave her a warm smile before kissing her and leaving yet again to finish up some of the things in his office. He had ordered the servants to come pick up the room and help the girl get cleaned up, but once Mephisto had strolled out as though he were on cloud nine, humming a little tune, she instantly declined assistance. For she had spent a lifetime tidying up after her own mother, and at times, it gave her a sense of solace and accomplishment when she seemed to be lacking in all other facets of life.

Belial only put up a small dispute before realizing the demanding expression of hers would never waver; he reluctantly bowed and took his leave of her despite his masters' orders. A hamper for the dirty linens was placed outside of the door, as well as a bucket of soap water and a washrag. The girl took her time, enjoying the silence of the dark room as she scrubbed on the flaking blood that had turned a shade of dark, rich umber, like clay fields drying in the summer heat. She put all her might into it, as a pestle would grind upon the mortar, until it too vanished as if nothing happened. As though everything were perfect, that by cleaning up such a mess made the wound upon her arm disappear without a trace; like a collector carefully placing porcelain dolls upon their shelves, all neat and tidy in their rows, poised and proper with perfectly ironed dressed and flawlessly puffed petticoats.

The girl stared into the hazy, browning water, with her knees aching and arm throbbing. Arms shaking, her grip strangled the cloth as her fists rested upon her legs, the dirty water leaking from the rag until there was nothing left to give. And then, without thinking, she hurled it into the bucket like trash, where water and soap bubbles were sent over the edge and across the marble floor.

Launching to her feet, she gathered the spare linens from the corner of the room where Amaimon has covered her sleeping form, and she snatched up the torn, bloody pieces of a sweater with a tight jaw. They went directly into the hamper, but before she continued, she paused in the doorway for a moment. Her pupils moved over the dimly lit room from the hall, and for just a moment, her heart thumped heavy against her ribcage, begging to be let out. Her chest rose and fell, faster and faster, and she dashed back into the chamber, tearing the comforter and sheets from the bed, plucking the pillows from their cases and casting them aside like cheap meaningless playthings. Trudging around the bedframe, she watched her surroundings carefully until she was far from the door. She kept her gaze on the only escape route as she kneeled, picking up the white Order uniform that the demon had left.

Much to her surprise, as she flopped it over her arm there was a waft of sake, and perfume.

* * *

The jaunty little tune had all but ceased as the tension in the room heightened. A foot bobbed rhythmically beneath the desk, thumping onto the dark wood every few seconds. Green eyes looked up from the paperwork, a grave expression befalling his features as he looked over the boy before. He waited patiently upon one of the plush chairs, ever so slightly rigid, and it was unlike the child to be so quiet and well behaved.

His voice came like glass shards. "So, tell me what happened in there."

The green haired boy rolled his orbs around in his skull, attempting to keep away from the sharp eye contact. "I went to check on her, she was bleeding, I patched her up. She needed more of that remedy stuff, and I helped her do the thing—" he made a plunging motion with his fingers and thumb, as if he were administering a shot; "And I stayed with her until she fell asleep. To make sure she was alright." He paused for a split second. "That's all."

He studied the boy carefully with stony eyes, watching as he shifted around in his seat, craning his neck every which way. The pen in his hand let out a cry as it teetered on the verge of snapping. "You went against my orders," he said through gritted fangs.

"I reasoned she could have been hurt, brother," he said, turning to look the elder demon in the eyes finally.

"I told you to make sure she didn't try getting out or doing anything else, that was all. You had no business going in that room."

"But were you so positive she was unharmed when you left?" the boy queried with a comfortable posture, cocking his head.

The thunk below the desk stopped suddenly, and dagger eyes stared the boy down in silence. The pen flicked back and forth rapidly, tapping on the desk repeatedly before he stopped and sighed.

"If I hadn't ensured she was safe, she could've lost so much more blood. Humans don't last very long in those conditions, it seems. Then you would have had to deal with Thanatos for—what was it—a fourth time? How silly you would have felt for telling him everything was fine when you weren't even certain."

* * *

Whispers echoed down the hallway, only audible enough to catch the nuances of conversation. Harsh S's slithered across her ear as footsteps echoed throughout the estate. There was no other voice, so she figured he must have been on the phone – come to think of it, she could ever so slightly remember the faint jingle of his cell from the other room. It seemed to always be making some sort of noise, and she had learned to just ignore it for the most part, letting it fall into background noise. _It must be more business calls_ , she thought. He was on his phone a lot, whether he was excusing himself to take a call, or sitting next to her on the couch or in bed typing away. It was always the same answer: work. The Order needed something, he had emails to respond to. If he wasn't on his phone or in his office, he was out in meetings as Johann Faust or Mephisto Pheles.

It had been like this for months, and it had never bothered her until now. She had sat reflecting on their time together, feeling as though they never actually spent _quality_ time together. It was always just bits and pieces, and she was like a kept doll locked away in the house, waiting for her master to return to give her some attention. And truthfully, she had enjoyed their moments together as much as her alone time; she wasn't a needy woman in the slightest, and prided herself on being as independent as possible. His mind was everywhere all at once, never ceasing to sit in one place for longer than a few minutes, and she always understood he was a busy man. In fact, she had admired that about him. But for some reason, recently she couldn't stop looking over their time together, feeling more alone, more like a doll for him to pass the time by with.

Her thumb passed over the rubbery Pause button so she could try to hear a bit better. Turning her ear toward the cracked doorway, her breath was shallow and noiseless, and all she could hear was his words and footsteps echoing. It sounded as though he was pacing rather furiously, his shoes drumming on the hard stone floors promptly, muting his speech just a bit more.

A few hard K's and S's again, but she couldn't understand it over the banging of cabinets. "…Have you... 'Spatch all… to the beach."

 _The beach?_ She might have been able to hear what he was saying if maybe she had cupped her ear, but her hands were stuck to the controller. She sat in silence, listening to his voice as it carried closer, the tapping headed towards the stairwell.

"…'es, yes…" The footfalls came even closer. "Thank you, Ms. Kirigakure."

The girl hit the Pause button and resumed playing just as Mephisto bumped the door open with his hip. She glanced over at him as he entered, attempting to seem as though she was absorbed into the game enough to have never stopped. He was only partially dressed for the day, and his burgundy dress socks popped out below light linen trousers with each step he took. The white dress shirt was shoddily tucked in, and buttoned only midway, allowing the pale skin of his chest to peek out as he moved. There was a low beep as the nail of his thumb ended the call, and a plate of food was clutched in his other hand. He seemed to be going a million miles an hour and didn't take notice to the girl hastily trying to collect herself; at least, that's what she hoped.

"Lucky you!" he called out with a toothy smile as he stamped across the bedroom, his pupils still upon the screen of his phone as he tapped away at the buttons. The girl stopped the game once more, turning to him with a very prodding stare – which also went unnoticed. "It seems that a new mission has come in," he continued, setting the warm plate out until she took it from him. Her eyes widened as the reality of his words set in, and she grew more interested for him to continue by the second. Both of his thumbs tapped away at the phone as he wrote out what seemed like a whole letter. Her stomach bounced inside her as he snapped his phone shut abruptly, and finally addressed his human with a playful light dancing in his dull eyes. "I'm sending teams exorcists to deal with it, including the exwires from the Kyoto mission," he said with an air of professionalism in his tone, buttoning himself up and readjusting the tuck of his shirt. "Would you care to accompany me to watch this one, little flower?" he smirked, lifting his collar and flipping a tie over his head. "Perhaps I'll even let you participate," the demon said with a wink, leaning down for a quick peck on the corner of her taut lips before marching towards the closet.

Beneath her skin, she shook like the turning leaves of fall; a confusing concoction of panic and exhilaration all in one. She hadn't expected a new assignment to come in so soon – and deep down in her depths, she was surprised her demon lover was holding up his end of the bargain they had made. After all, nothing in particular was being held over his head in return. He had, as always, gotten exactly what he wanted; and now nothing was keeping him from backing out of his portion of the deal. There was no contract, nothing binding him to his word besides his sense of duty and his gentlemanly façade he always tried to play at, and there would be no consequences for him other than perhaps the negative effects it would have on their relationship – if you wanted to even call it that. Weren't demons notorious for twisting things and breaking promises they had no reason to keep?

Part of her was expecting it.

She was stunned, wondering if she had heard him correctly. Her eyes followed him around the room, and her lips parted speechlessly. Was this a glimpse at something opposite of self-seeking? Could demons put others' wants and needs before their own selfish desires? Maybe he wanted her just that much, maybe he didn't want to lose her just that much, that it was to his benefit to keep his word. Her mind raced through so many possibilities, but hearing that she would be going on an official exorcist mission as an exwire started a fire inside her, and she beamed with eyes wide as an ocean.

The demon glanced over to her, prodding for an answer from the silent girl. And it was then she realized her shock had stopped her from replying. Rocking forward and thumping her sprawled hands onto the bed in front of her, she finally blurted out: "Of course I want to come with!"

He gave a chuckle as he looked her over with his usual sly expression. "Good," he replied, pulling on a cotton blazer with wide burgundy stripes, separated by thin pink, purple, and white pinstripes. His tie matched in Mephisto Pink™ as usual. "Now finish up your breakfast and get dressed."

Nodding exuberantly, she quickly shoveled the meal into her mouth as she half-listened to Mephisto go over the specifics of the mission – something about a large aquatic demon of some sort that had been terrorizing the waters of a coastal city. A large team of exorcists would all join together to dispose of the creature. However, she wasn't particularly interested in the details, and she couldn't imagine missions were too complicated. Find the demon, and exorcise it. That was their job, right?

When she finished her meal, she bolted for the door of the extravagant closet, only to be stopped by the demon's voice. "Don't forget your swim suit, my dear," he reminded, lips spiraling while he looked her up and down as he sat upon the edge of the bed. "Hurry up now – I'm going to screw with your stats if you don't," he teased, picking up the controller to the paused game.

"Don't you dare!" the girl shrieked, face turning as pink as February as she darted for her clothes, anxious to get going.

(Sorry this took a while to update, I had to write a couple chapters out before deciding where to split it up.)


	44. Chapter 45, Testing the Waters

Chapter 45, Testing the Waters

 _Warning: Some Language_

There was a cool, salty breeze coming in from the ocean, kissing her bare legs and rosy cheeks as it enveloped her. There was always something about the sea that she admired, that gave her life; maybe it was how gentle it could be, moving around everything solid as though it hadn't a care in the world, all while staying persistent enough to cut through rock with enough time. Maybe it was how hard and unforgiving it could be, making sailors fight their way across without knowing whether they would live or die. The water chose to take or have mercy all on its own. And yet, it was soft and tender, nurturing millions of lives within itself. It was so free and wild, doing as it pleased, never to be tamed or held against its will.

There was something about those dark waters she wished she could be; and yet, she didn't realize she already was.

They had set up quite a ways off shore as to go undetected from the large mass of exorcists who were arriving on the scene. The demon summoned a pink lounge beach chair, and it stayed floating ever so slightly as he opened his umbrella and placed behind him, shielding him from the bit of sun that peaked through the clouds as it hovered. He had offered a chair for the girl, but she merely shook her head, opting to stand instead.

She watched him intently as he got comfortable, unbuttoning his striped blazer and leaning back on the chair with a sigh. _Was this what he really had in mind?_ She thought, digging her toes into the sand between sprouts of reedy grass. Previously, he had always made it sound as though he watched the missions as more of an active officer; someone who would be at the ready to do something if something happened, not someone who would relax in his chair as if he were to take a nap. Were they really only there to _watch?_ She let out a sigh as her heavy scrutiny dropped to Amaimon, who kneeled in the patch of sand trying to sculpt it. He would gather it up in his hands, push it together, and hold for a second; as he released, the loose bits would just topple over.

"It's not wet," she said, moving towards the young demon.

"That's dumb," he replied carelessly.

She took a moment to look over the beach once more; it was quiet. All the exorcists looked small in stature, and she doubted they would ever even notice them, for they all had little reason to look so far inland. It seemed like many of them were sitting, while only a few were on patrol, and some were walking slowly, picking things up off of the shore. The kraken she had been told about was nowhere in sight; it was hardly what she had envisioned her first mission to be like. Was it possible the demon had lied to her, and this was but a meaningless mission for the exorcists with no real threat or danger, just so he could fulfil his end of their deal? Did he take her on the mission as promised, only making sure it was something ridiculous, so the next time there was a real threat he could keep her from it again?

A heavy lament escaped her lips and her gaze drew back inward, landing on a toy bucket near a shed not too far away. "Let's go find some," she finally said, dropping her bag and heading towards it. Amaimon quickly sauntered after her, and the two of them searched nearby for tide pools or a stream to pass the time by. When they returned, she watched Amaimon play, trying to craft whatever he could out of the sand, sticks, and leaves. She glanced over at Mephisto once again, who was busy lying in his chair with a portable handheld game; she figured he probably hadn't even realized they had ventured off for a bit.

"Are they going to actually do anything over there?" she asked with a huff.

Only the reply of tapping and clacking of buttons came.

"Samael—"

"Any time now, my dear," he said listlessly from behind the game. "Just relax for a bit, won't you? Enjoy the beach."

 _We're barely at a beach, we're so far away from the water!_ She let out a measly snort, turning and heading back to Amaimon. _Relax a bit, enjoy yourself,_ she mocked in her head, mouthing his words with a sneer as she bobbed her head back and forth. Grabbing the hem of the oversized sweater that rested at her thighs, she pulled it up over her head, rolled it into a ball, and tossed it into her bag.

Sensing her annoyance, Mephisto lifted the brim of his straw boater's cap while peeking over the edge of the pink device, hoping to catch a glimpse of the protests he always found so adorable. Instead, he fell victim to the sight of his little human unfurling before his eyes, until she plopped to her knees in the sand. The enamored demon took a moment, setting the screen upon his chest as he rested, just to take her in while she didn't even realize it. It was moments like these, when she wasn't paying attention and was lost in her own world that he enjoyed the most, and the rate at which she managed to steal his breath without even lifting a finger seemed to be ever-increasing.

Resting his warm cheek upon his knuckles, his soft stare descended upon her features, which he took in with regard individually and collectively. How he admired her, how she unknowingly took charge of every situation she was put in. Even then, as she kneeled in the sand with his younger brother to help with his construction, she took on the role of the foreman without a word, and Amaimon looked to her for guidance thoughtlessly. Even the way she moved while digging in the dirt was like poetry in motion; her long hair, previously tucked behind her ear, began to fall around her face as a grandiose frame of her angelic features and sun-kissed shoulders. Between the marks and bruises, her airbrushed skin was as soft and delicate as rose petals, embraced in a swim suit so fair it appeared to be white against the honey tone of her body – a shade he always found so suitable for her. She was flawless, as if she had been brought to life by an artist; she was something from another world, the kind of girl that wars were started over, that the sea would part for, that flames would never burn. The only blemish the demon could fathom was the small crescent shaped birthmark, barely differentiated in tone, on the flesh above her hip joint – but it was arguably one of his favorite things about her.

It was then that the ruffle above her hip caught his eye, and a lewd smile began to tug at his lips. Investigating the two-piece, he found the trimming made its way around her entirely; when she moved just right, he could see a matching ruffle along the top of her bosom, meeting with a bow in the center. The edges of his mouth curled as he studied the fabric, realizing it was not only white, but a very faint pink and white plaid. An easy mistake when you weren't paying attention to what she was wearing.

A low chuckle sounded from the demon as he extended his fingers. When he coiled them back into his palm, the girl was snatched from the sand and sent backwards through the air – within an instant she was in the demon's arms. She let out an instinctive gasp, squirming as she tossed arms and legs around to break free, only to be met with his twisted grin as he inspected her with eager eyes and hands. "Is this the suit I bought you?" he snickered, poking and pinching at the fabric, ignoring the pulsing in her veins every time he came into contact with the thrashing human.

The girl began to turn colors as she swatted away the hand that pulled the fabric from her body. Another pinched her thigh, then her rib, then her hip. "So what? Is there a problem if it is?" she questioned with a grumble, trying to subdue a titter.

A black nail made its way around the top of the frill, giving it a quick flick away from her breast. The hand was met with yet another smack, and he had to chuckle again. "Not at all, I'm just a bit surprised is all~" he hummed, continuing to search and prod her, conjuring restrained giggles from his beloved little human.

"Does it look bad?" she asked through tight lips and aching cheeks, slowing the fight against the intrusions that just kept coming.

And like a turn in undecided weather, the demon's impression unexpectedly changed as he wrapped his arm around the small of her back, drawing her in close to his own being, lifting her chin to face him. The girl disputed the contact silently, looking away for just a moment; but finally she faced his sudden, delicate sincerity, collapsing into the emerald glint below mellow lids. "Nonsense, my dear flower; you could never look bad in anything," he said in a low, velvety tone, sending a quiver down her spine. "You're absolutely entrancing."

"Look brother – I made you!" Amaimon spoke zealously from where he sat, damp and covered in sand. He spun around, lifting a deteriorating cluster of sediment and twigs, with two pebbles for eyes and a leaf for hair, and a long curled stem sprouting at the top. When his impartial gaze caught up with them, his expression contorted to see his elder brother progressing over the girl, their faces joined together as his hand caressed and gripped her thigh around him. She giggled and squirmed as he nipped at her bare flesh, whispering mischievous intentions into her. The clump of sand plopped back down to the ground, splattering into something unrecognizable, and the boy's eyes rolled as he let out a livid grunt and returned to his crafting.

All of a sudden, a deafening shriek moved across the clouds as the ocean rained down heavy. Mephisto popped up from his diversion like a Meer Cat on patrol, just before he was shoved off of the hovering chair completely. The girl sprang to her feet, grabbing her bag and dashed for the beach without a second of hesitation. The disoriented demon watched from the ground as the human ran as fast as her feet could possibly take her. Letting his head slump onto his shoulder, he chuckled lightly. "There she goes again," he said quietly, a smile on his lips and tranquil warmth emanating in his eyes.

"Shall I retrieve her, brother?" the younger demon asked rigidly from his feet, eyes locked on her shrinking form.

Bringing himself to his feet, Mephisto dusted himself off with a sigh. "No; as promised, I'll let her play for a bit this time." He positioned himself back onto the beach chair as it raised itself high in the air, and he sat on the edge with his chin in his palm. Amaimon followed suit, staying close to his brother, although he remained confused on how the elder demon could stay so relaxed when the girl faced potential danger.

There was a row of buildings off to the side between their original spot and the beach; the girl skirted around to head towards where the majority of exorcists were gathered. Somehow, she managed to catch up to Bon, Shima, Konekomaru, and Izumo, who seemed rather surprised to see her at all.

"Where did you come from?" Izumo blurted out as they all made their way to the water.

Shima and Bon took a double take. "How the hell did you get here?!" Suguro yelled.

The girl shrugged over-expressively, turning her palms up with wide eyes, unsure of how to explain her arrival. No one was probably informed of her involvement in the current mission, as if Mephisto hadn't even planned on allowing her to join in. And of course, she couldn't just come out and say: I'm sleeping with the director, who's also the king of time and space, so it was nothing for him to bring me here. _Better to deny and distract_ , she figured.

Shima jogged over closer to the girl. "You look so very nice in your bikini, by the way," he said with a grin, the tips of his cheeks turning red. She and Izumo only rolled their eyes.

Pursing his lips and warping his brows, Mephisto leaned forward in his chair. "Careful of those eyes of yours, boy," he muttered tightly under his breath, the air getting heavy around him. Amaimon took notice, and looked on carefully with distress. His brother, it seemed, had become even more fixated on the girl, and he wondered when the game was supposed to end – if it would ever end.

The group met with the scattering exorcists on the beach, where Shura was barking orders. "What's been going?" the girl shouted, deterring the conversation.

"Shiemi, Rin, and Professor Okumura were stranded on _that_ island," Konekomaru announced, pointing ahead to the rock formation near the kraken. "We've been waiting around for orders!"

 _So they have been here for a while,_ the girl thought, scoffing. All this time she had thought they had arrived promptly when the others were gathering, and assumed that nothing had happened yet – when in reality, Mephisto had brought her to the scene late, possibly on purpose. _Of course._

"Was that Moriyama's scream earlier?" one of the exwires asked in a panic.

"Get ready!"

The group looked on helplessly from shore as the kraken lifted the small image of Shiemi high into the air. _How can I even help?_ The girl wondered. _They're so far away, I don't even know if Fenrir can do anything from here!_ It was then that a blue flicker was seen moving off in the distance, just before an ear-shattering crackling shot through the sky and shook the ground below, like a bolt of lightning had just struck the shore with no remorse for potential victims. From the island sprang a great whale out of the rubble, which latched onto the kraken and drug it deep into the ocean, only the tips of curled tentacles breaking past the water surface.

"Watadsumi is awake! Get into your positions! Get ready for battle!" Shura called through her megaphone.

The girl blinked, watching the commotion of exorcists clamoring on the shore, and the splashing off in the distance as a great battle broke out between two giant beasts. The blue dancing along the horizon then vanished, causing a stir in the group of exwires – "What happened to Rin?!" they shouted. But the island was too far away in order to see anything.

Another splash of great magnitude as Wadatsumi attacked the kraken, and another shriek could be heard from the beach. In a haste, Konekomaru pulled out a pair of small binoculars and sighted in as best he could, relaying the scene of Shiemi falling from the Kraken's grip. Hearts pounded so hard as they sat helpless on the shore, too scared to even call out – but then, something else appeared to snatch her from the air before she hit the water.

Onlookers watched as the whale guardian charged, chomping down on the colossal squid. It sounded as though a great storm was approaching with how much the waves roared; tentacles and tails whipped through the air, sending water particles to rain down on the beach so far away. And then, it appeared Watadsumi had pinned the kraken, tearing at its rubbery hide with his jaws, and it was quiet for a moment.

"Watad..sumi…"

The world seemed to go quiet, numb as the ancient guardian let out a cry of agony, tentacles ripping through his flesh like blades. He fell limp, staining the water burgundy as he bled, and the kraken lifted his worn body high in the air in victory.

"Such a shame when your body is too weak to continue on in this world," Mephisto noted with a playful sigh.

Suddenly, the kraken hurled the massive, fading body towards the beach; exorcists everywhere yelled as they ran for cover, unsure of where the whale would fall. But before they could collect themselves, the kraken charged toward the crowd, preparing itself for the final attack.

Amaimon's heart pounded against the chest of his host. "Brother—"

"Quiet," Mephisto scolded, observing carefully.

As the beast neared, it released hot fumes that reeked of dead fish and made dozens of other krakens appear out of thin air, sending a panic through the inexperienced exorcists. Surrounded, Shura called out through the megaphone once more, telling everyone not to fear; they were mimics, and would disappear once the real kraken was harmed. "Lower-first class exorcists and below—exwires included—turn your focus to the skid!" she ordered, pardoning the amateurs from battling the monsters before them; guns were tossed in their hands to help with the ordeal.

"See, my dear little flower?" Mephisto said to himself in a nurturing tone, a sly smile cracking across his face. "It's not my fault you didn't get to play as much as you wanted."

The battle on the beach raged on, each man and woman giving it their all, dodging tentacles and aiming to kill. The exwires fought off the slew of miniature squid, who were nothing more than a nuisance. A rocketing shot ripped through the air, destroying one of the mimics. Then, a blue flash appeared on the island again, giving the exwires a sense of relief to know that Rin was alive and fighting still.

But it was short lived; as their attention was drawn away, something slithered against the sand, wrapping itself around the ankle of the girl. As soon as she felt it, it jerked back, slamming her head onto the ground before lifting her into the air. Shima and Suguro jumped after her, reaching out for anything, but only missing by inches and falling back onto the sand. Ears ringing, sight spinning in all sorts of directions, she scrambled to reach her weapons and bag before they slipped over her head, but to no avail.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me," Shura snapped, watching the girl get hoisted higher and higher into the air. "Attack!"

Amaimon shook, fighting the urge to intervene; his sharp, shaking pupils darted back to his brother, who remained focused, but calm. _How could he stay so calm?_

The exorcists focused their shots on the kraken, which seemed to disrupt its plans. The massive arm grasping the girl waved back down toward the beach – making everyone fear it would smash her into the sand – only to lift back up, where it released her finally. And to get away from where it was being pelted with mass bullets, it headed back into the ocean towards the lonely little island with a blue flickering on it.

"Must I save you in every situation you get in?" the demon's voice sounded from the chair with a light titter as he exhaled.

"Shall I retrieve her now, brother?" Amaimon asked with a crack in his voice, eyes fixated on the human as she went higher and higher.

"Not just yet."

The ringing in her ears had finally stopped, and everything went quiet. The sun shined brightly through the clouds, and the birds flapped through the sky above as though they hadn't a care in the world. There was no sound besides the going of the waves, the calls of the gulls, and the rush of the wind as it played with her. Everything was peaceful. She glanced down, becoming disoriented once more; was she above the ocean, or the coast? _Everyone looks like ants._

And then, it was still.

When she fell, would the water break her fall? Or would she crash back onto the ground? It was so hard to tell from her height. And it was at that moment that her stomach churned, and her heart fluttered. _Shit, I could actually die,_ raced through her mind – she frantically searched herself, patting her bare body down for something, anything to help her. Where was her bag? Where were her summoning strips? Where the hell was Mephisto? Surely he wouldn't allow that. But, could he save her without drawing attention to the fact that he was a demon?

Her eyes grew wide as the wind rushed against her back. _Fuck._ What could she do? _Fuck._ She had to do this on her own, didn't she? _Fuck._ She couldn't depend on anyone but herself. _Fuck!_

Finally hearing a scream from the girl sent the young demon over the edge; he snapped, making a sudden move toward the girl. But before he could get very far, he stopped midair, unable to move a single muscle. Heart beating faster and faster, his pupils shot over to Mephisto, who scowled darkly from his chair. "Leave her."

The two demons watched on from their vantage point, the whole show before their very eyes: the exorcists fighting mimic krakens on the sand, Satan's children fighting the real kraken on the island, and their fragile little doll tumbling faster and faster towards the earth's surface. The beating in Amaimon's chest grew so rapid his breathing couldn't catch up, and he began to hyperventilate; but the elder demon sat on the edge of his chair, a wild Cheshire smile coiling on his lips as his pupils shrank with exhilaration.

Exorcists yelled from where they stood, helpless, and some of them scrambled to pull tarps apart to try to catch the young exwire. But as she neared the ground, a gust of black wind blew through the area, materializing into the even greater wolf, Fenrir. He leapt into the air with a mighty roar, catching her.

"That's my boy," Mephisto chimed darkly, letting his breath out with an exuberant heave as he released Amaimon.


End file.
